He slowly came closer to me, his eyes darkening as he looked me up and down in my tight dress. “You’re looking damn fine today.”
I wanted to spit in disgust. I couldn’t believe I’d ever kissed this man, that I ever got on my knees for him. He pretended to be an angel that wanted to help me, but he turned into the devil instead. Men who preyed on vulnerable people were scum to me—worse than scum.
I had to do something. And I had to do it now. “You know, I find it—” I sprinted to the door without looking back, hoping he was absorbed in my words to give me a one-second head start.
“You think you’re getting away?” His loud voice followed me out the door.
I kicked my shoes off and sprinted as hard as I could, but with lightning speed, he caught up to me.
He grabbed me by the back of the neck and slammed me into the wall, knocking my head against the solid material. “You’ll never get away from me, Rome. When will you understand that?” He covered my mouth with his hand so I couldn’t scream.
I saw stars, and the world spun. His arm hooked around my waist, and he used his strength to press me into the wall.
“I’ve earned the right to fuck you,” he hissed into my ear. “You teased me for so long, after everything I did for you. It’s gonna happen, bitch. Might as well accept that.” He yanked me down the hall and left my heels behind.
I couldn’t let this happen.
Once he got me back into the apartment, the game was over.
I ignored the blinding pain from my skull and mustered up energy from every inch of my body. I threw my head back hard, striking him right in the nose. It probably hurt me more than it hurt him. But pain was better than being pinned onto my bed while he fucked me like he owned me.
I grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his neck. I kicked his knee, forcing him to fall to the ground. I grabbed his head and slammed my knee into his face, this time breaking his nose and making blood stream everywhere. “I’ve earned the right to kick your ass, bitch-face.” I shoved him into the wall just the way he’d shoved me, making sure his skull collided with the molding along the side.
He fell to the ground but didn’t lose consciousness. He rolled out of the way, getting blood everywhere. It soaked into the carpets and streaked along the white walls. He managed to grab my foot then twisted it painfully, forcing me to fall to my knee with a painful thud.
Instinctively, I threw my elbow down onto his wrist, making him cry out in pain. He immediately released my foot and pulled his hand into his chest, cradling it like it might be broken.
The elevator at the very end of the hallway beeped as it approached the floor. The doors were about to open, and my neighbors were going to save me. They would take one look at Hank, me, and the blood then call the cops.
Hank gave me a terrifying look. “This isn’t over, baby.” He got to his feet and ran to the stairwell at the opposite end of the hall just as the doors opened.
I would have chased him, but I couldn’t move. I was exhausted from the battle and in immense pain. My foot hurt, but I was certain it wasn’t broken. My head throbbed with the worst migraine of my life.
“Rome!” Christopher sprinted down the hallway until he came to my side on the floor. He spotted the blood and the bruises on my face, and without asking any questions, he figured out exactly what had happened. “Let’s get you to the hospital. I’ll call the police on the way. Can you walk?”
“Yes…” I got to my feet and felt dizzy. But I refused to show weakness even though I wasn’t sure why. I needed to walk away from the battle as the victor, not the defeated.
Christopher scooped me into his arms and carried me back to the elevator, leaving my shoes in the hallway. Somehow, he managed to pull out his phone and press it between his neck and shoulder. The elevator carried us to the lobby as he made the call. The operator’s voice came on the line. “9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“I’m calling to report an assault.”
After a day at the hospital, I learned I had a concussion, bruised ribs, and a lightly sprained foot.
But other than that, I was in good shape.
It could have been worse, so I counted it as a blessing.
Christopher got the police involved even though I knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. They investigated the apartment and the scene in the hallway, but once Christopher accused Hank of being the culprit, they created other suspects, criminals and felons that lived within a two-mile radius. Apparently, Hank had a solid alibi—he was taking counsel with a client. His client, two cops, and even a judge insisted he was with them at the time of the crime.