Fuck that. I clamp my mouth shut, and he slaps my face. When I still refuse to open up, he digs his fingers into my skin, pressing painfully along the joints of my jaw, trying to force me to open up. I hold strong, and he slaps me so hard that my head hits the wall.
“Open your fucking mouth!”
I refuse, and he grabs my mouth again. His fingers dig into my muscles, and tears appear as pain shoots down my neck. I wouldn’t put it past him to break my jaw, but I will not go downwithout a fight. Even if he breaks every bone in my body, I’m not giving in.
And this excites him. My fight makes him hard, which I find out when he takes my hand and rubs it along the fly of his dirty jeans. Everything about this man is grimy and gross, and I want to throw up.
“I love a fighter. It’s much more pleasurable to fuck the fight out of you,” he growls.
His breath smells of cigarettes, whiskey, and rotting teeth. It’s disgusting, and I can only imagine how little he cares about personal hygiene.
He wants me to say something. He’s trying to goad me. If I say something, I have to open my mouth. I’m not falling for it.
Kicking out a leg, he releases my face as I’m knocked to my knees with a hard landing on the cement. Small pebbles cut my knees, and I really wish I hadn’t worn a dress today. It’s too damn easy for him.
He unbuttons his jeans, his groin just inches from my face, and a sick smile spreads on his. “You have a choice. You can suck it, or I’ll fuck you so hard I’ll ruin you for every other man. Including myson.”
That’s what this is about. He wants to hurt Zep. And I know he’ll never forgive himself if Butch does this to me. I know that much about him.
Before he can free himself from his jeans, I punch him in the balls. The hand holding my wrist releases as he cups his junk, and I push myself up and run towards the bar. I just need to get inside.
“Help!” I scream out, praying someone happens to come outside and hears me.
All I need is someone to hear me.
“You bitch!” Butch shouts and grabs my ankle.
Falling forward, I scrape my face on the cement as I land and am pulled back. But I’m close. The light from the front of the building is in sight.
“Help!” I scream again, doing everything I can to crawl toward the lighted sidewalk.
Butch climbs on top of me and lifts a fist in the air. “I told you not to do that.”
He hits me hard in the eye, and I can’t breathe. It hurts more than I thought it would, and I’m stunned. Dazed. Which is a dangerous position to be in.
“I think you’ll suck it as well as get fucked,” he says in a husky tone that makes my skin crawl.
His body moves further up my chest, and he frees himself from his jeans. I slap at him. Scratch. Claw. Dig my nails into any piece of flesh that isn’t the disgusting dick just in front of my face.
I turn my head to the side and scream again. This can’t be happening. I can’t let this happen. There has to be something. Anything. God, please, let there be something.
Heavy footsteps come running, and I panic as I continue fighting him. Butch can’t get a good grasp on my hands to stop me from pushing him away, and I worry that the footsteps belong to another Venom member.
I may have just made a terrible mistake.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Misty
Butch flies off me, and I scramble towards the light, tears streaming down my face. My jaw aches, but I’m free.
I’m okay. I’m okay. I’m okay.
No matter what I tell myself, it doesn’t calm me. One of the worst things I can ever imagine almost happened, and I can’t breathe. I can’t get a breath in as I sob, and a large hand touches my shoulder.
I let out a squeal and kick myself backwards. The leather is familiar. Daredevils. And the man with a large white scar on the left side of his face holds his hands up in the air as he crouches in front of me.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Misty. I just wanted to see if you’re okay. Shit, he got you good.”
