He pushed his face into hers. It was a contorted mask of evil intent. “Do that again and I will cut your pretty face.”
He didn’t wait to see if she understood. Instead, he shoved her over the log. The brittle bark bit into her stomach. Flesh scraped off her arms. A harsh hand smacked down in the middle of her shoulders, keeping her in place. He kicked her ankles wide. She pushed at the tree, fighting to get away. It was impossible. Between her injuries and the way she was balanced over the log, she was trapped. She sobbed, the noise tearing through her bruised throat. A hand twisted in her hair, keeping her in place, and the knife sliced deeper into her hip.
“Bitch! Stay still.”
“John!” she screamed, but it came out as a whisper.
Miguel leaned over her, pressing his body along her back, his weight and strength making it hard to breathe. The smell of sweat and dirt and stale alcohol made her gag.
His tongue came out and he licked her face, tasting her tears.
“Salty.” He laughed.
With blurred vision, she saw him stab the knife into the tree, just out of her reach.
“Please, don’t,” she begged. “I’ll pay the ransom.”
“I never wanted the ransom,” he said.
He wedged his hand between their bodies. Belinda struggled as she sobbed, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t shout, couldn’t do anything. He overwhelmed her and kept her captive far too easily.
She felt his fly zip lower, and his hand pull out his cock. It pressed against her behind, and she gagged. Her stomach convulsed and she vomited up water and bile, making him laugh. His hand slid over her backside.
“My famous whore,” he said.
Belinda whimpered, clawing at the tree, trying to get away from him. Trying to get out from under him. She felt the weight of his body lift as his hold on her hair tightened. And then she felt him grasp his cock and rub it against her rear. Taking his time positioning himself. Enjoying her pleas for mercy. Knowing none would come. He was going to do it. He was going to rape her, and she couldn’t stop him.
“No!” she wailed hoarsely. “No!”
It was pointless. No one could hear her bruised voice.
Nothing could save her now.
Chapter 22
Beast woke to the sound of monkeys screeching inside his head. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes to find they hadn’t invaded his brain. They were jumping around on the branch above him.
“Go away,” he grumbled.
The little bastards ignored him. John groaned as he tried to sit up, but something tugged at his waist, preventing him from moving. He looked down to find lianas securing him to the wide trunk behind him. Belinda. He cracked a smile but found even the slightest movement hurt his head.
He felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck. Every single muscle in his body felt bruised and aching. Just untying the lianas was exhausting. He honestly doubted he’d be able to stand, let alone walk through the jungle. Which meant they were stuck where they were for the day. It also meant the chances of their kidnappers finding them would skyrocket.
Above him, the monkeys were going insane, making so much noise it was hard to think. It was early, barely past six, and he suspected Belinda was off taking care of business before she woke him. For some reason, the woman didn’t want him to know that she had the same bodily functions as every other person on the planet. He smiled at the thought. Maybe it was an English thing. The English were a nation of prudes, weren’t they? Anyway, no matter where she was, he had to track her down. They were still very much in danger, and he didn’t like the thought of her wandering around on her own. First, he had to get some water into his body.
He reached for the water bottle she’d thoughtfully left beside him, and froze.
In the distance, in the clearing beside the lake, he saw Belinda.
And she wasn’t alone.
Pure terror flooded Beast’s system as he watched the guard from the camp strip Belinda and push her down. Beast cursed as adrenalin rushed to his abused muscles. He had to get to her. He had to stop this.
He pushed himself to his feet, one eye on the guy as he backhanded Belinda. She fell to the ground, going down hard on something and wailing with pain. Rage, like nothing he’d ever felt before, exploded within Beast, and then, just as suddenly, it cooled to a stark, deadly intent. The guard was dead. He just didn’t know it yet.
Beast tried to take a step, but his shaky legs gave way. He cursed, holding on to the tree. He was stuck, trapped by his own weak body, while Belinda was being attacked. There was no way he could climb down the tree. No way he could run to save her.
The man grabbed her hair and shoved her onto h