She shook her head. “It’s not right.”
“No! What you’re doing isn’t right. You fucking five men, Millie. I heard about them. I know about them and they’re as good as dead. One of them already is.”
Her eyes widened in shock. Dalton, Anthony, Jeremy, Hank, and Marco? Oh God, he killed one of them?
First she was filled with fear, but then anger arose inside of her.
“You’re a fucking liar. They’re better than you and you wouldn’t ever be able to get to the
m.”
He lunged for her and she struck her injured arm out, banging him over the neck.
He faltered then quickly turned around to come back at her with the knife.
She remembered what Dalton and Hank had taught her. She would tire him out. She had been training and could do this. Her life and their lives depended upon it.
He lunged the knife at her and she kicked at his wrist.
“You’re going to come with me. We can do this the hard way if we have to,” he told her.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Frank. This ends here and now.” She was so scared she felt as if she weren’t even in her own body. Frank was here. He had killed one of her lovers and she didn’t know which one. It hurt so badly inside she didn’t care if she lived or died.
“You’re mine, bitch, and your men are going to die one by one. Only four to go.”
He lunged again and again. She countered then struck him hard in the face. Her knuckles burned and her arm dripped with blood. He caught her leg with the knife. She stumbled back and he came toward her. Quickly she sidekicked, knocking the knife from his hands but losing her balance as he fell on top of her. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his ribs and squeezed. He reeked of sweat and cologne. He growled and yelled in her ear as he pounded his body against hers, making her lose her breath with every pounce against the hard ground. She screamed and tightened her hold and he lost his breath for a moment. She did it again and he rolled her to the side. They rolled and rolled and he was crushing her. Before she knew what he was doing, she caught the reflection of the metal blade in the sun. He was trying to get to the knife. She wiggled and squirmed as he got to all fours with her still wrapped around him like some winter scarf.
“I was hoping to fuck you first, but I guess I can kill you then fuck you.”
She fell to the ground and he reached for the knife. She swung at his arms, scrambled to her feet, and kicked him in the face. She turned to reach for the knife and her legs came out from under her. She screamed as Frank pulled her ankle and calf. Her belly scraped against the ground and she wiggled her body to roll to her back. He was crawling up over her, his mind now set on raping her instead of slicing her.
Her eyes darted around. She got her bearings, saw the knife, and reached for it.
He tore her shirt open. Her arms were raised above her head, her fingers on the handle of the hunting knife.
He was so out of it. His focus was on her body, her breasts. The bastard thought she was still weak, a victim ready to falter from her attacker’s assault.
“Mine.” He yelled as he squeezed her ribs with his hands on either side of her waist. The move hoisted her up and she gripped the knife tighter.
“No. Don’t!” she screamed. She could feel the bruising where his fingers dug into her flesh. Then he let go and began to rip the button of her jeans open.
She kicked her legs and he grabbed her and shook her.
“Lay still and take what you deserve. You’ll never be with another man. You’re mine, bitch, and then you’re dead.”
“No. Never again!” she screamed.
“Stop, police!”
Millie lunged the knife forward with all her might as Frank turned toward the loud male voice.
The blade slammed into his neck and he froze above her as blood shot from where the blade stuck out.
She shoved him over and scrambled backward, crying in fear.
When she felt strong arms touch her shoulders, she screamed and fell backward onto the ground.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s me.” She looked up toward Dalton. He had tears in his eyes and he looked as white as a ghost.