Page 93 of Let Me Love You

My heart sinks. Of course, he’d think that way and not the fact that I actually love Victor. A snap breaks the silence, and it’s as if he chipped off a shard of my heart. He’s breaking my test? That is mine.

I thrash against Paul, but he throws me, and I crash to the floor. Landing on my hands, I try to break my fall, but pain radiates up my arms.

“Now stay down there on the floor, and remember where you’re from.”

I breathe out through my nose, my nostrils flaring.

If I can get the element of surprise, maybe I’ll be able to get out my front door. Screw the gun for now. An idea forms.

Slumping my shoulders forward, I shake my body like it’s trembling. Paul says something under his breath, but I can’t make out the words. I push a soft sob past my lips, and Paul’s heavy footsteps go farther away, like he’s pacing. He’s always been the nervous, indecisive type, and he especially hated when I cried.

This is my chance.

I push to my feet and sprint for the door. My hand touches the knob right as Paul realizes what I’m doing. He dashes to me and reaches out to grab my arm, but I have the door open before he can touch me. A man stands outside, and it takes a few seconds for it to click on what’s happening, but that gives me all the opportunity I need. I jump from the top of my stairs to the landing in one swoop—I’ve had plenty of years of practice doing that when rushing—and the setting sun gives me enough light.

I beeline for the woods that line my street. There’s a path that’s hard to find. If I make it, I might lose them, and then I can go downtown. I’m sure if I go into any of the stores or restaurants, everyone will believe me when I go in screaming someone is chasing me. The people of this town have known me for my entire life and know I’m not one to make a scene without reason.

Heavy footfalls pound behind me, but I don’t look back. No way can I let him get ahold of me again. I’m not the type of woman to go down without a fight.

And I definitely don’t need someone to come rescue me.

Chapter 40

Serenity

After about an hour of playing cat and mouse, Paul finally has me trapped. My throat is dry from screaming, and my lungs are burning. I’m slumped outside of Lana’s Boutique with my back against the door after calling her on repeat on the run over. Her apartment is above her shop. She goes to bed early, but I was hoping if I made enough noise, she’d wake up. She has to be here. I slam the back of my hand against the door again.

“Lana, help!”

The streetlamp flickers as Paul stands over me. He’s so close I see he has a tattoo that starts from under his shirt and twists up his neck. His face is distorted into anger.

“I can’t believe you lied to me, you bitch,” Paul spits out through gritted teeth. He raises his hand and slaps me across the face again. It’s as if he thinks it’s a power move. My cheek stings, and I hiss out a breath, but again, I refuse to show pain.

He paces away, not giving me the time to reply, and mumbles something under his breath. I can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but the few words that make it to my ears sound a lot like, “They’re going to kill me.”

Paul’s phone trills with an incoming call, and when he looks at the caller ID, he groans. “Shit. I’m so dead.”

I guess I was right.

Even though he’s treated me like trash, I can’t help but reassure him. If he wasn’t Summer’s father, I wouldn’t give a shit. “I promise I’ll get you the money.”

“You escaped when I was on duty. Molly won’t let that slide.”

Molly. That’s his new girl’s name.

“So? Do you really have to tell her everything? You didn’t tell me about all your debt.”

He levels a glare on me. “She’s our leader’s daughter. I was hoping if I let her ride the pony, she’d convince her mother to lay off me.”

“If you knew how to find the clit, maybe it would’ve helped,” I say through gritted teeth.

His lips turn into a twisted smile. “Are you reminding me that you’re a slut now? If you’re willing, I’m sure we can find better ways to pass the time.”

The thought of his slimy hands on me makes me almost vomit.

Paul’s phone rings again. After he glances at the screen, he chucks it, and it hits the stone wall beneath Lana’s sign, clattering to the ground. My shoulders sag forward in relief that he forgot his line of thinking—at least for the moment.

The front door to Lana’s bursts open, and she comes running out with a butcher’s knife while still wearing her pink fluffy pajamas. She came. She slices at Paul, but he easily sidesteps her.