BEARing it All (Wylde Brothers 3)

30Rook took his time dragging her through the forest, and when she started to trip over her feet, he would just tighten his hand around her arm until her blood flow was cut off and she was forced to keep up. He’d hit her several times before hauling her out of the trailer, and blood slowly trickled from her split lip.

Her left eye was starting to close, and a horrendous headache filled her head. Marek and Tank were only a few steps behind her, and she knew that all of this was a setup to get Bram to follow them. Rook was all about the revenge.

She stumbled again and fell to her knees. Surprisingly, Rook let go of her arm and took a step away from her.

“I can smell the foul stench of that fucking bear all over you, Kenzie.”

She curled her hands in the ground, felt dirt and dried leaves push under her nails, and tried to think of a way out of this. She could fight all she wanted, but it wouldn’t erase the fact that Rook was far stronger than she was. Escape was out of the question, especially with the cougars who stood behind her and Rook in front.

“I want him to watch as I make you finally mine right before I take your life.” He got down on his haunches and forced her to look at him by gripping her chin with his index finger and thumb. He repeated himself, as if she didn’t know exactly his intent. “If I can’t have you, no one will, especially some testosterone-filled bear that thinks you’re his mate.”

Gritting her teeth and feeling her anger rise as she stared into his heartless face, Kenzie said, “He’ll come, and when he does, he’ll make your death slow and painful.”

His face contorted into something out of a nightmare, and he backhanded her hard enough that her head kicked to the side and her body followed suit. Something sharp dug into her side, and she moved her hand between her body and the ground, felt the large stick that was grinding into her ribs, and wrapped her hand around it.

It was a substantial girth, and if Rook thought to take her down, she was going to make sure he felt pain before he did it. For far too long, she had been the victim, but being with Bram had shown her she was a strong person. No longer would she let Rook control her or intimidate her. Death was most likely her outcome, but she would fight until the very end.

She lifted her eyes and saw Marek and Tank watching her with stoic expressions on their faces. A hit to the face wasn’t really their style, not when they enjoyed breaking fingers one by one and crushing kneecaps with sledgehammers. It was twisted stuff one would see in a movie, but this wasn’t fiction; it was her reality.

Rook gripped her forearm in another bruising hold and pulled her up so her upper body was suspended in the air. His free hand went to the button and zipper of his pressed slacks, and he undid them with a sadistic grin on his face.

Not wasting any more time, because she honestly didn’t know how much she had left, she tightened her hold on the stick and brought it up with as much force as she could muster. It wasn’t the best weapon, but it was all she had. The edge of the stick was splintered and sharp, and when it made contact with Rook’s cheek, it sliced the flesh open. He let go of her and howled in pain.

He cupped his cheek and let out a string of profanities. Kenzie braced herself for his next action, because she knew it would be in the form of pain. He lifted his free hand to stare at his hand. Blood slipped from between Rook’s fingers from where he had been holding his face, and when he saw the product of her own violence, his face turned a nasty shade of red that could be seen even in the dusty haze of promised night.

He shifted before her eyes, morphing into a creature she would forever fear. After his bones snapped and realigned, and his muscles stretched and reshaped, the sleek black animal paced in front of her. With his dark coat, she couldn’t see the wound that still marred his face, but the scent of his vile blood filled her nose. The feline growl he let out and the way his muscles seemed to vibrate below the surface of his fur let her know she had pushed him too far. Good.

“Well come on, you bastard. I’ve been waiting for this release since I was eighteen.”

His hiss was low and menacing. She was pushing him, but she wanted him to snap completely, so maybe then he would make her death swift and painless.