Page 51 of Property of Player

“There may be another way,” I suggest.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“Player has a woman. One he really cares about. Her name is Taylor.”

“So?”

“She’d be easier to take. Their VP would lose his mind. It would give you the same effect. They’d be willing to do anything to get her back.”

Duck actually laughs at me. “For some fucking piece of ass? How do you think she’d ever hold the weight the fucking president’s daughter holds? You really are a stupid bitch. Prez wants the daughter. End of story.”

I’ve heard he likes them young, and I wonder if that’s part of it.

“You think it’ll be soon? I heard they’re going to California. Their national meet is in Anarchy.”

Duck hits a button on the remote, turning off the porn on the flat screen. He tosses the remote and stands.

I can’t help taking a step back. I’d hoped to give him a report and leave.

“We know all about that. When Prez is ready, I’ll contact you, and you better jump.”

“Yes, of course. I’ve got to be going. I’ve got a shift soon.”

“You ain’t goin’ nowhere. Not ‘til I’m through with you, bitch.”

He reaches for me, and my shirt is up and over my head before I can gasp. He spins me to face the mirror over the cheap dresser, then yanks my miniskirt to my ankles, taking my panties with it.

I’m standing in my bra, but he stands and makes short work of that, tossing it aside.

His fingers thread through my long hair, and he jerks my face back.

Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I feel him fumbling with his pants.

A moment later, he slams into me. I’m dry and it's painful, but with him, that’s the point. He likes to hurt. He likes to control. This isn’t about pleasure. It’s about showing me he can do whatever he wants. It’s about showing me he has total power over me, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.

There’s a gun in my purse. It lies on the dresser, just a foot away. I make the mistake of letting my gaze fall on it.

My head is jerked violently back with one hand while the other sweeps my purse off the dresser.

“Don’t get any fucking ideas, bitch. You think I don’t read you like a fucking book? You think you’re smarter than Duck?”

I try to shake my head. “Never.”

He pounds into me, and tears fill my eyes.

Releasing my hair, his big meaty hands clamp around my hips, and he fucks me hard.

His eyes latch onto the reflection of my bouncing breasts. I can see the lust in them, and it sickens me.

But I’m a survivor, and I swear I’ll survive this, too.

Somehow, I’ve got to find a way out—out of the clutches of Duck and the Depraved Sinners and out of this life.

A thousand ways to kill Duck flash in my head.

But maybe there’s a better way; one that won’t lead the Depraved Sinners straight to me. Maybe I can get the Kings of Anarchy to do the dirty work for me.

Finally, Duck growls and comes inside me. I feel the ejaculate trail a path down my inner thighs. I pray I don’t get pregnant, although maybe it would be the answer to my prayers. But only if I could pass it off as Player’s.