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Authors: Nicole Williams
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a man like you think you are.”
The first thing that should have warned me things weren’t going to end well for me was when he slowly rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Anyone rolling up their sleeves with that maniacal of a smile was a sure sign no good was to come. The second sign? He undid his belt and pulled it from his pants as though he was preparing to use it as a weapon.
I scanned the hall for my purse, but it had gone in pretty much the opposite direction my body had. If I could unbuckle a strap and get off one of my heels, I could use that as a weapon. Then I saw the plastic bag sitting beside the door next to me. Where a couple of bottles and a pair of nail clippers sat. Nail clippers with a close-enough-to-a-knife file. If I could get to those, I could do a little damage.
As soon as I started to crawl toward the bag, I felt the first lash of his belt across my back. I was yelping from the first one when the second came, followed by a third and a fourth and so many more I lost track. Even through the crack of the belt and my howls of pain, I could make out Henry’s voice. He called out for me, and the anxiety in his voice shifted to enraged.
Instead of crawling for the bag, I almost moved toward the sound of his voice. Then Rob tossed his belt aside and gave his feet a turn. When his first kick landed against my stomach, causing me to wonder if he’d liquefied all my internal organs with one blow, my primal sense of survival resurfaced, and my direction changed back to the plastic bag.
“This night could have gone so differently. If only you’d been the obedient girl I know you’re dying to become.” Rob’s words were punctuated by his kicks, which were peppered with my cries, which were interrupted by Henry’s shouts.
“I know what way you had in mind,” I got out, spitting some blood. “Believe me when I tell you this is the better option.”
Then another fist connected with the other side of my face. “How’s that for better?”
I tasted blood, and my body throbbed from every part. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, would be left of me when Rob Tucker was done. If anything was left, it wouldn’t rest until I’d taken my revenge on him.
“Go to hell,” I spit as my fingers closed around the plastic bag.
“Not until I’m done with you.”
Another fist smashed onto my cheekbone. As I screamed from that hit, I managed to pull the bag close and fumble around until my fingers grazed cool metal. I worked fast to free the file, and just as Rob wound up for another punch, I flipped over and drove the file into his compacted fist. It went in deeper than I’d anticipated, and the pain almost instantly registered on his face.
“Go ahead. Hit me again. Or kick me. Or whip me.” Sitting up, I held back my wince and held up my weapon. “I dare you.”
Rob went from studying his hand as though he wasn’t sure what had happened to glowering at me. From the looks of it, I was the first person who’d stood up to him. He seemed unsure whether to finish the job with me or turn, tuck his tail, and run.
“Come on, you spineless piece of shit. Hit. Me. Again.” I arched my arm back, ready to drive the file into his eyeball if I needed to. Despite the beating I’d taken, my hand wasn’t wobbling. My voice wasn’t either. If my response to being brought as close to death as I’d been was being strong and not shaking, I could say with absolute certainty that I wasn’t fragile. At least not anymore.
After a few moments, Rob’s rage dimmed until a tilted smile moved into place. Then, flashing me a wink, he stood so he towered over me. I kept the nail clippers at the ready. At that position, they were heading for his balls if he tried anything.
“Until next time.” His smile became wider as he studied me sprawled out below him. Bastard. “Be a good girl.” He moved toward the elevator with purpose. He punched the down button, hopped on the moment the doors opened, and gave me one last
The first thing that should have warned me things weren’t going to end well for me was when he slowly rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Anyone rolling up their sleeves with that maniacal of a smile was a sure sign no good was to come. The second sign? He undid his belt and pulled it from his pants as though he was preparing to use it as a weapon.
I scanned the hall for my purse, but it had gone in pretty much the opposite direction my body had. If I could unbuckle a strap and get off one of my heels, I could use that as a weapon. Then I saw the plastic bag sitting beside the door next to me. Where a couple of bottles and a pair of nail clippers sat. Nail clippers with a close-enough-to-a-knife file. If I could get to those, I could do a little damage.
As soon as I started to crawl toward the bag, I felt the first lash of his belt across my back. I was yelping from the first one when the second came, followed by a third and a fourth and so many more I lost track. Even through the crack of the belt and my howls of pain, I could make out Henry’s voice. He called out for me, and the anxiety in his voice shifted to enraged.
Instead of crawling for the bag, I almost moved toward the sound of his voice. Then Rob tossed his belt aside and gave his feet a turn. When his first kick landed against my stomach, causing me to wonder if he’d liquefied all my internal organs with one blow, my primal sense of survival resurfaced, and my direction changed back to the plastic bag.
“This night could have gone so differently. If only you’d been the obedient girl I know you’re dying to become.” Rob’s words were punctuated by his kicks, which were peppered with my cries, which were interrupted by Henry’s shouts.
“I know what way you had in mind,” I got out, spitting some blood. “Believe me when I tell you this is the better option.”
Then another fist connected with the other side of my face. “How’s that for better?”
I tasted blood, and my body throbbed from every part. I wasn’t sure what, if anything, would be left of me when Rob Tucker was done. If anything was left, it wouldn’t rest until I’d taken my revenge on him.
“Go to hell,” I spit as my fingers closed around the plastic bag.
“Not until I’m done with you.”
Another fist smashed onto my cheekbone. As I screamed from that hit, I managed to pull the bag close and fumble around until my fingers grazed cool metal. I worked fast to free the file, and just as Rob wound up for another punch, I flipped over and drove the file into his compacted fist. It went in deeper than I’d anticipated, and the pain almost instantly registered on his face.
“Go ahead. Hit me again. Or kick me. Or whip me.” Sitting up, I held back my wince and held up my weapon. “I dare you.”
Rob went from studying his hand as though he wasn’t sure what had happened to glowering at me. From the looks of it, I was the first person who’d stood up to him. He seemed unsure whether to finish the job with me or turn, tuck his tail, and run.
“Come on, you spineless piece of shit. Hit. Me. Again.” I arched my arm back, ready to drive the file into his eyeball if I needed to. Despite the beating I’d taken, my hand wasn’t wobbling. My voice wasn’t either. If my response to being brought as close to death as I’d been was being strong and not shaking, I could say with absolute certainty that I wasn’t fragile. At least not anymore.
After a few moments, Rob’s rage dimmed until a tilted smile moved into place. Then, flashing me a wink, he stood so he towered over me. I kept the nail clippers at the ready. At that position, they were heading for his balls if he tried anything.
“Until next time.” His smile became wider as he studied me sprawled out below him. Bastard. “Be a good girl.” He moved toward the elevator with purpose. He punched the down button, hopped on the moment the doors opened, and gave me one last
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