Dirty Addiction (Dirty 2)

“She wasn’t yours to touch.”

He cocks his head to the side as his eyes stay locked on Eden, looking at her like he wants to devour her.

“You left her with me. You gave me power to do what I pleased with her when you left. What is she to you that you would be this upset anyway? She’s only a slave.”

My fist pulls back and then makes contact, hard, with the side of his jaw. His face whips around and I can see redness forming where my fist hit him, but it’s not enough. Not nearly enough.

His eyes darken when he looks back at me, holding his face. He doesn’t dare try to fight me back. I’ve kicked his ass before, and I’ll kick it again.

“What the hell man?” he says.

“Eden’s mine.” My fist hits his face again, and this time it knocks him off balance enough so when I hit him again, he falls to the floor.

I can’t think of anything other than causing him as much agony as possible for what he did to Eden. He touched her. Raped her. And broke her fucking leg. He doesn’t deserve to keep breathing.

I punch him again and again, each strike harder than the previous. He holds up his hands trying to block my punches at first, but eventually, his hands fall to the side as does his body.

I can’t stop though. I have to make Armas pay for what he did to Eden. I don’t understand why I feel this way. Eden is nothing to me but the key to getting Nina and Arlo back. But my stomach is in knots and my body filled with rage as I pound into his flesh over and over.

My fists are raw and bleeding, but I don’t feel the pain. Only the anger. It consumes every muscle in my body, so all I can do or think about is making Armas pay.

Eden groans and I stop.

I turn to her immediately, ignoring the bloody, lifeless mess on the floor in front of me.

I run to her body and cradle her head in my hands.

“Matteo? Are you really here?” she asks, her voice trembling.

I nod. “Yes, I’m getting you out of here.”

She rapidly blinks like she’s trying to make me go away by blinking, but when I don’t, she smiles enough to melt the anger that has taken over me.

She pulls on the shackles holding her down on the bed. My eyes go to the bedside ta

ble where I find the key. I grab it and unlock each shackle, moving quickly and efficiently.

Her eyes stay with me each time I move, her eyes narrowed like she doesn’t understand what I’m doing.

She doesn’t have to understand. I don’t even understand what I’m doing. She can’t stay here. And I won’t let anything like this ever happen again.

When I’ve removed every single shackle from her extremities, I help her sit up. Then I gather a blanket draped over a chair in the corner of the room and wrap it around her body.

She winces when the fabric touches her leg.

I scoop her up as gingerly as I can in my arms.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“You can’t walk. I’m getting you out of here and taking you where it’s safe.”

I expect her to argue with me, that my own home is no safer than this place is.

She doesn’t.

Instead, her head falls against my chest as her body shakes gently in my arms. The adrenaline now controlling her body has no place to go, making her tremble.

I hold her tighter against my body, ensuring she can’t see Armas’s dead body as I take her out of the room.