“Like this?” Tristan knelt on the ground behind me, cold hands yanking my hips back into him until I felt his hard dick through the fabric of my pants.
I threw an elbow back, and he caught it. “Scrappy thing, aren’t you? Much more of a fighter than your brother was.”
The ice in my blood heated, his words igniting something far too big to fit inside me. It demanded destruction. “What?”
“You want me to tell you?” I could hear the grin in his voice. He twisted my arm until fire seared down from my shoulder. “How much Logan cried and begged me to stop? He was even more pathetic than you are. But he was so small and tight. Just my type. You aren’t as small, but you’ll do.”
“You fucking bast—” My insult morphed into a scream as he twisted my arm further, used it to push my face down into the ground.
My whole body froze and burned simultaneously as he tugged at my pants.
Then I saw it.
Beneath the dumpster, something gleamed. As if trying to get my attention.
Cold air met my skin as fabric was pulled down to my thighs.
Using every ounce of strength I had left, I spun. Pain exploded in my shoulder, but I managed to knock him off me and reach my other arm underneath the dumpster, my fingers brushing something metal.
“You think that’ll stop me?” Tristan recovered, grabbing at my legs to drag me back to him. Gravel scraped my spine, but I let him. Waiting until he was over me again. Then I swung as hard as I could.
It was a metal bike pedal. Rusted and broken.
It made a wet cracking sound as it collided with Tristan’s temple.
I hit him again. Again. His body fell half over mine, and even then I kept hitting him until the pedal was red with more than just rust.
He was still. Quiet.
Adrenaline let me drag myself out from under him with one arm.
I yanked my pants back into place and scurried back until my back hit the wall.
It was silent. The silence was loud.
nineteen
Harper
COYOTE, BULL, AND CUPID.
How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Long enough to know Tristan wasn’t breathing. Long enough to know he never would again.
Adrenaline was fading. Pain increasing. Panic growing louder.
It had been self-defense. Logically, I knew that. If someone found us here and called the police, I could probably prove it. But my fault or not, it would cause a scandal, and Tristan’s family was one of Dad’s biggest investors. He’d never forgive me for this.
Is that why Logan never told him?
I couldn’t let myself spiral over that. Later definitely, but right now, I had to deal with this.
Attempting to push myself up the wall made the pain worse, a sob involuntarily escaping me as liquid fire ran through my veins. My left arm hung limp at my side, ignoring my attempts to move it despite the agony.
Weak. Pathetic. Look what you’ve done.
I couldn’t fix this. Not on my own.
Pain tore through my heart as well. Because the first person I wanted to call for help was Benny. But I could never drag him into this. I’d done enough damage to him.
