She knew he had a mean streak. She’d watched him on the job so many times and knew firsthand that he was a monster.
Only now, she was the intended victim. When he wanted something from her, he’d been the perfect gentleman.
“Not a chance. You think you can tease me with that dirty pussy? I can’t believe I fucking waited, but that’s okay. You want to play us, well, we’re going to play you. I’m going to know every single thing about you, and I’m going to make sure that asshole wants nothing to do with you by the time I’m through.”
“You’re making a big mistake,” she said.
Hank laughed. Only this man didn’t look like he was capable of talking. He was possessed with the need for vengeance.
“Hank, please. Take me back and they won’t hurt you.”
She gasped as he suddenly pressed the point of a blade against her face. Fear clawed up her spine, threatening to spill over.
The tears that filled her eyes finally leaked out. Sickness rushed over her.
“I wonder if he would still want you if you’re all messed up. If you didn’t look pretty but were actually so fucking ugly you made him vomit just looking at you.”
“Hank, please.”
“Hank, please.” He mimicked her voice, his face twisting as he spoke. “You thought you could take from me. That I didn’t see what was happening. I should have known.” He made absolutely no sense. She’d played him. He’d thought he won, but she’d been the perfect actress. Not once had he seen through her act. It was news to her because she truly thought several times she’d messed up. Points for her.
“I’m going to show you that no one tries to mess with me and gets away with it. One day, Grass will be back on top and all that evidence your disgusting club thought they had will disappear. We’ll own the town. We’ll own them, and as for you, you’ll be nothing but a fucking memory.”
The blade pressed again.
She could be silent, or she could fight.
The thought of death scared her. Hank could stab her right here and she’d bleed out.
She didn’t want to go down without fighting. The club was her family. She’d fight for them.
Even as she wanted to burst into tears, she started to laugh. This wasn’t funny. Nothing about what was going to happen was funny.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?” Hank asked.
She’d startled him and he’d loosened his grip. Turning to her side, she covered her mouth and put a hand to her stomach, giving in to the wave of hysteria that had overtaken her.
“What’s going on back there?” Grass asked.
What the hell am I doing? This is completely nuts. I’m going to die.
She shook Hank off as he tried to touch her. Scooting away from him, she turned to finally look at him. Now that she was sitting, staring at him, she wasn’t the one in a vulnerable position. If Hank was going to come at her with a knife, she’d be ready. Not that she could do anything.
“I’m so sorry.” She giggled for good measure.
“You think this is funny?”
“Yes. You think you’re going to make the guys pay, and that you’d somehow own this town. Did you two even look in the mirror? I was at that party. You were selling women who didn’t want to be there. You think you’re better than the club? You’re worse.”
Hank glared at her. “Those women were given a second chance. They should be grateful.”
“Those women were stolen. You call the club scum. You think you’re above them but you’re not. You’re beneath them. You always have been. It’s why you’ve got to fight to try and rid yourself of the dirty that clings to your skin.” Anger filled the void of fear, taking over. She needed to shut up, but after listening to Hank’s insults of the club, and knowing what they had planned, she was done acting like the dumb woman who was looking for a hero. She was through acting scared.
If he thought she was going to go down quietly, he was mistaken. She’d fight all the way.
Hands clenched at her sides, she stared Hank right in the eye.
“You will never win because you’re weak. You’re pathetic, and the real scum is you.”
Chapter Eleven
He grabbed her by the hair, dragging her toward him. Pain shot through her entire body, but she refused to cry out and give him the satisfaction. He wasn’t thick and muscular like most of the men in the Hell’s Slaves, but he was still stronger than her. And angry.
“I was doing you a favor. You were my charity case,” he said. “How many men would offer to rehabilitate a slut?”
“You’re a pig,” she said. “And just as much an actor as I ever was.”
“No, I was actually falling for you. That’s where we’re different. I’m a human being. I saw potential, even though it was hard to overlook your past. But it wasn’t really your past at all. You’re a club whore for life.”