Everything came rushing back all at once. Every hurtful word, every strike, every taunt and whine that I let pressure me into having sex with him. And every time he ignored it when I said no.
Until I broke.
My hands fisted at my sides as he called my name. His voice was soft and sweet, trying to lure me back in again. It was what he did. Only this time, I was done letting him.
I’d had enough.
So I punched him. I pulled my hand back and watched as he fell back on the floor. Then I moved. I pulled my legs up on the bed and scrambled to the other side.
I stood with my back against the wall and waited for him to strike. Waited for him to come after me. My eyes darted around the room, looking for an escape; only, there wasn’t one because he was between me and the door.
The only option was the bathroom. But there was no window. No way out once I closed the door. A door he would break down. A door that meant nothing to a man who wanted to hurt me.
He didn’t get up right away, and I silently begged him to. The longer he waited, the worse it would be. He stayed on the floor and backed up to the wall.
I stared at him, watching, waiting. But something wasn’tright. His eyes were soft, not angry. I scrunched my brows as I studied every line on his face. Blood dripped from his lip, and his tongue darted out to lick it away.
“You’ve got a mean right hook, baby.”
He sounded... happy? He chuckled, and something opened in my chest. I looked in his eyes again; they were so blue, like the sky on a cloudless day.
WAIT!
Alan had brown eyes. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my head, and I finally saw him.
Billy sat on the floor, his arms resting on his jean-covered knees. His messy hair hanging over his eyes. Blue eyes that stared back at me with laughter.
He stood up, his height towering over everything in the room.
“Get some sleep, baby. We’ll leave in the morning.” Then he opened the door and walked out without another word.
Without a slap.
Without a punch.
Still chuckling.
“Well, crap.”
Chapter Seventeen
Matlock
My hand tightened around the phone, turning my knuckles white and making them hurt. Turning toward the couple who entered the room laughing, my anger boiled over.
“Thanks,” I ground into the phone through clenched teeth.
I hurled the phone across the room in a direction nowhere near the man who continued to piss me off because the woman he walked into the room with was pregnant and my president’s old lady.
The phone connected to the wall and made a sharp crack as it broke into pieces. The sudden silence turned every head in the room. Simon froze where he stood, his eyes on me as I stalked toward him.
“You told her to fucking run?” I snarled. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Matlock,” King warned, coming up behind me and standing in front of Grace.
I barely acknowledged him as I seethed, my focus on Simon and what Keys had just told me. I took another step, reaching for Simon, and he stepped back as King pushed me back.
“Back off. That’s a fucking order!”
