It’s greedy, thirsty, and reminds me of a vulture—a vile creature that picks at the remains of the dead.
He grabs my ankle, but I put up a fight, kicking him with my bloodstained white heels, screaming for him to let me go. One of the spikes of my heels digs into his tattooed upper arm and he roars from the pain, but that only fuels him.
It angers him.
He grabs me again, this time higher on my leg. He squeezes and it hurts so much that I cry out.
I see people, but they are only watching from the safety of their homes. None of them are calling for help. None of them are trying to save me. None. They are all just as afraid as I am, cowering behind splotchy curtains, or running into buildings to hide.
“Come here, you stupid bitch!” The man clutches my leg, getting a good grip. He drags me across the backseat, but I hang onto the edge of the driver’s seat, still fighting—still kicking and screaming for my life.
If I’m dying, I won’t go down without a fight.
Fuck that.
I hear something creak behind me and when I look back, I see Kevin opening the door to bend down. He releases a long, deep sigh, and then he leans forward to get closer.
“Kevin!” I scream. “Why are you doing this?! We’ve been nothing but good to you!”
He shakes his head, looking me over. Before I know it, he’s wacked me across the face with the butt of his gun.
Blood fills my aching mouth, running down to my chest. The man that has my legs is still tugging, grunting as he tries to wrench my body out.
But I don’t stop fighting. I can’t. I don’t care if I end up dying because of it. My acrylic fingernails sink into the leather and I hold on even tighter.
“That hit was supposed to be enough to get you to stop fighting, Gia. You’ve left me with no choice. You’re causing a scene now and we can’t have that.” I look back at Kevin with the taste of hot copper on my tongue.
“I fucking hate you,” I spew right before spitting my blood in his face. My words mean nothing to him, nor does the spit. When it lands on his cheek, he acts as if it never even happened.
He doesn’t flinch or react. He doesn’t do anything at all, except what he planned on doing in the first place.
The butt of his gun comes crashing down on my skull, causing a cracking noise that sounds unreal.
My body crumples down, my arms giving out on me. The man that has my legs finally yanks my weak body out of the car. My head drops down hard on the pavement, causing another splitting crack, but I can’t feel it after a while.
All I feel is numbness.
Coldness.
I can’t even see the sun. All I see is blackness, and that’s when I realize something is now covering my head. Something is blocking my vision.
Before I know it, that darkness becomes all consuming, and I sink deep into the depths of it.
I hear myself breathing hard, so I guess I’m still here.
I hear my heart sluggishly pounding in my chest, so I guess that means I’m still alive.
But I wish I weren’t.
I picture Toni’s blue eyes when he looked at me with remorse. I remember his blood on my hands. I taste my own blood, and the only thing I wish is that I was already dead.
In only five minutes, I have suffered from my very own decision—loving one of the most dangerous men on the planet.
Loving a murderer.
A liar.
A psycho—that’s what they all used to call him, but he was none of those things to me.
He was my husband. He was my rock…but now—because of these men—he is nothing.
Chapter Two
Day 1
The sound of water splashes from a distance.
Deep voices hiss and hum. Some are boastful and arrogant. Some are faint.
Pain sweeps across my entire head. The back of it hurts so bad that I wince. I try reaching up to touch it, but I can’t. My hands are stuck. I’ve been restrained.
I snatch my hands forward and backward, feeling something burn my wrists with each tug.
Rope.
I open my eyes, greeted with blackness. My breathing picks up, my lungs working double time. The rope around my wrists is so tight it burns and I’m not even moving them anymore.
The sound of water picks up. It seems closer now. My head feels heavy as I lift it, trying to move whatever it is covering my head so I can see something.
I panic.
I rock my body sideways, pushing onto my left arm, giving it all I’ve got. At first, it’s useless, but as I continue swaying, I finally get up.
I pant raggedly, looking down through the small slit, spotting old hay and moldy wood. The deep voices grow louder and then I hear something creak before slamming. A door.