Make Me, Sir (Doms of Decadence 5)

“In God’s eyes, we are.”

Nope. No way was she letting him take her into her bedroom.

“Get away from me motherfucker!” she yelled. Turning, she grabbed the lamp from beside her and threw it. It landed about a foot too far to the right. Shit, Tara was right, her aim was terrible.

His face grew a blotchy red, and he stepped toward her. She backed up until she hit the living room wall.

Uh-oh.

There was a knock on the door, and she opened her mouth to scream. He quickly covered her mouth with his hand and held the knife up to her neck threateningly. There was another knock. Then nothing for several long minutes. She almost cried. That was probably her last chance to get out of this alive.

“It is my judgment or God’s.” He removed his hand.

“I’ll take God’s.”

“So be it.” He raised the knife.

***

His taxi pulled up outside Reagan’s apartment building, parking behind another taxi. Tiny paid the driver and climbed out, grabbing his bag. He hadn’t packed much. His driver got out and walked over to talk to the other driver. Unease filled Tiny as he saw a blue bag sitting on the curb.

“Been waiting here for ten minutes,” the other driver complained. “If my fare doesn’t show up in the next minute, I’m going. Tried ringing her, no reply. Even tried knocking on the apartment door. Looks like she left her luggage here and disappeared.”

“What apartment number?” he said urgently. He dropped his bag and raced towards the door to the building.

“3B,” the driver yelled after him.

Oh, shit. No! Please, let her be all right.

***

I don’t want to die.

Why hadn’t she asked Tiny to teach her some self-defense moves? Why hadn’t she told him she loved him?

Well, she wasn’t about to give up on that life yet. This bastard wouldn’t hurt her without a fight. Reaching up, she grasped hold of Abraham’s wrist, holding the knife up. She grunted with effort. Damn, he was strong. And it was a losing battle…he was going to win.

Just as she felt herself weakening, he was gone, flung across the room like he weighed no more than a rag doll, and she was staring up into Tiny’s furious face.

There had never been a more beautiful sight in her life.

“Tiny!”

He held up his hand. “Stay there.” He turned and stalked toward Abraham who was crawling towards the knife. Tiny kicked the knife away with a savage snarl.

Reagan leaned back against the wall. She should probably do something. Help? No, Tiny didn’t need her help. Call the cops? Maybe. After she regained the use of her legs.

Tiny waited until Abraham stood then slammed his fist into the other man’s stomach, following up with an uppercut to his chin.

Abraham slumped to the floor in a dead faint, and Tiny grunted, almost sounding disappointed. When he turned back to her, she started to shake. She slid to the floor.

“Oh, God. Oh, God. He was going to kill me.”

Tiny came to her and scooped her up into his arms. He looked over over at Abraham’s unconscious body. “Shit. We need cops.”

“If—if I could find my p—phone, I’d call—”

“Easy, baby.” He placed her down on the chair furthest from Abraham. “I’ll call Jack.” He crouched in front of her. “Are you hurt anywhere?”