“No.” Blake shakes his head. “He won’t. He’s at Vista Palms, waiting for me.” He sniffs a humorless laugh, and then his hand reaches out and his finger skates up my arm, fixing the strap of my tank top that’s starting to slip.
I slap his hand away.
“Whoa.” He laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Avoiding his eyes, I stare down at the floor, feeling myself start to disassociate while willing myself to stay strong. Brookes will be home. He said he was only giving Blake five more minutes at the club. But Vista Palms is at least fifteen minutesaway. My heart thunders so hard it hurts, like it’s about to crack a rib and break free.
“What do you want, Blake?” I ask, not looking at him.
“I told you.”
I do look up then.
His smile remains, but his eyes darken. “I told you that if you didn’t stick to our deal, then…” He trails off, his threat hanging in the air.
I wrap my arms around myself a little tighter, fear consuming me at the thought of having to go through everything all over again. It was bad enough when it happened, but now, with the spotlight of being the girlfriend of the biggest name in golf? Tears sting my eyes.
“Or…” Blake continues, and again, he drags his finger up my arm, causing me to flinch. “Maybe we could come to some other agreement?”
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss, slapping his hand away, but this time he doesn’t surrender, grabbing me around the back of my neck, so hard it causes me to cry out as he pulls me flush against him.
“C’mon, Poppy.” He laughs, and the sound reminds me of that night in Carter Stewart’s basement, my blood running cold.
Suddenly, I’m on my back, on the kitchen table, the angle hurting me. Blake hovers over me, holding me down, his face contorted into a look of absolute menace.
“You’re hurting me,” I scream. “Stop, please!”
“How much?” he grits out, spit droplets falling onto me. “I’ve got fuckin’ money. Name your price.” He tosses a bunch of money at me, hitting my face.
“Get off me!” I cry out, trying to use my knee. When I connect with his crotch, he grunts. But then, the look in his eyes flares, and for a moment I’m sure he’s about to kill me.
“You fucking bitch!” he utters, and his hand connects with my face before I can even register him pulling his arm back, the sting exploding across my cheek.
“That’s what whores do, isn’t it? Fuck for money!” he shouts, millimeters from my face. “You’re awhore, aren’t you, Poppy?”
When I hear the telltale sound of a zipper releasing, I can’t breathe. The panic surging through my body renders me so frozen, I can’t catch the breath I need so badly my lungs are starting to sting.Not again. Not again. Not again. I close my eyes tight, a silent sob bubbling out of me when I feel his fingers tear at my shorts.
“Please, I promise I’ll?—”
“You motherfucker!”
Blake is suddenly ripped off me, his body flailing like a rag doll as he’s shoved, followed by the sound a loud crash. I catch sight of Brookes from the corner of my eye before a pair of strong arms are wrapping around me, pulling me up, the warmth and familiarity of his scent enveloping me like a bubble.
“Baby?” his gruff voice murmurs into my hair. “Baby, I’m here. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Brookes cups my face then, ducking down to meet my eyes, and the look on his face is one I’ve never seen, relief mixed with unbridled rage. Sweeping my hair away from my face, he studies me carefully. “Are you okay?” he presses urgently. “Did he fucking?—”
“I’m… I’m okay,” I manage, my body shivering uncontrollably.
Brookes presses a kiss to my forehead before turning, and I watch on as he picks Blake up off the floor by the scruff of his collar, his strong arm rearing back before landing a fist to his face, the sound of bone crunching against bone sending a chill down my spine.
“I fuckin’ warned you,” Brookes mutters, landing another punch.
Blake groans.
“You piece of shit,” Brookes grits, connecting again.
“Brookes!” I cry out, but he doesn’t hear me.
