Nothing I felt was real; it was the drug making me feel these things. A sober Mads would have nothing but contempt and disgust in her heart for Sterling Weston, would never let him touch her again.
“No,” I combatted, despite getting to my feet.
He patted my ass like I’d just scored a touchdown. “Good girl.”
Hardly. If he claimed to know me so well, then he should have guessed that I would never go anywhere with him meekly. Fuck no. He could pump me full of every drug he could get his hands on, and I would still fight him tooth and nail.
Commotion stretched through the stands, making its way down to the field. The mumbles quickly turned to people getting up from their seats, trying to make it off the bleachers and out of the colored smoke.
But I was too damn busy trying to keep my balance. I felt so off.
Instead of going down with the crowd, he took me up, confusing me, but it didn’t stop my heels from digging in, a bit of lucidness creeping through the high. Not that it did much good. Sterling lacked Micah’s physique, but he still outmuscled me. A swift yank and I staggered up the steps. It was either that or end up on the ground. Perhaps falling would have been better.
I gave myself a second or two to regain my composure, and then I screamed, “Micah!” A mouthful of smoke went into my lungs, and I coughed. It had been a weak cry for help, especially over the upheaval. I doubted Micah heard me, much less anyone else.
Sterling jerked me against him, slapping a hand over my mouth. “That wasn’t very smart, Splash,” he growled in my ear.
Yeah, well, neither is this.I clamped my teeth down on a finger.
“Bitch,” he hissed, ripping his hand away from my mouth, but a moment later, that same hand was flying toward my face.
The asshole backhanded me.
I stumbled against him, my eyes rolling back, the tang of something metallic on my tongue. My blood. Pain throbbed on the left side of my cheek as I froze, my whole body and mind stunned. I’d been in a fight or two in my life, but nothing serious, just some hair pulling and shoving. Never had I been hit. Even when my older brother Jason and I were younger, he never hurt me. Sure, he would put me in a headlock or pin my arms behind my back, but I’d only really been protected by the men in my life. In my world, men didn’t hit women. How quickly my world shifted.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Sterling said as if it was my fault the asshole slapped me. “I never meant to hurt you. All you had to do was come with me for an hour.”
A bitter laugh choked out of me. “Next time don’t drug and force me.”
“Mads!” a voice howled.Micah.
Thick smoke impaired my vision in a rainbow of colors. It looked more like a birthday party than a kidnapping. I couldn’t tell how far away he was, but once Micah got a hold of Sterling, the asshole was dead.
Sterling’s head whipped over his shoulder right before he bent and hauled me over his shoulder, the quick movement taking my breath away. Then we were moving as he rushed down the row toward the end. Squirming, kicking, and hitting, I did everything I could to get him to release me, but the bastard came to a halt before I could really fight. I didn’t have time to grasp what he planned as he pulled me forward, grabbing the end of my wrists and pushing me over the edge.
A silent scream lodged in my throat, my mouth and throat so damn dry.Oh my God? Does he plan to drop me?I’d break an ankle for sure and God knew what else depending on the landing. Regardless, it would hurt like hell. I panicked, my feet kicking through air as I dangled.
“You ready?” Sterling hollered, and I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or not, but I was most definitely not fucking ready.
“Yeah. Drop her,” a voice came from below. His accomplice.
No sooner did the words register in my head than I was falling. Another scream ripped from my throat, this one created from instinctual fear of plummeting to my death. My arms flapped like I was a bird with a broken wing trying to take flight.
Two large hands grabbed my waist, breaking what would have been a disastrous fall. It still didn’t feel great. Sterling’s partner in crime’s fingers dug into my flesh, hard enough that I knew I would have another bruise on my body. At least this one I wouldn’t have to cover up with makeup, not like the one I was sure to have on my face.
Once my feet were planted on the ground, the one who caught me pinned my arms behind my back as Sterling jumped, landing with a thud beside us.
“We need to move before they realize she’s no longer in the stands,” Sterling ordered his co-conspirator.
My cheek and lip still ached, pain pulsing, but the discomfort was the least of my worries. Sterling had hit me once. Nothing was stopping him from doing so again, and now there were two of them, but my survival instincts had kicked in. This was a fucking public place, for shit's sake. Surely someone would be able to hear my cry for help.
I opened my mouth and screamed. “Help—”
As expected, a hand slapped against my mouth. “Keep her fucking quiet,” Sterling hissed, teeth gritted together.
The only way they were going to be able to do that was by knocking me out, which was always a possibility. I wrestled against the binds imprisoning my hands, attempting to break free, but there were some positions the arms were just not meant to bend. Switching tactics, I slammed the heel of my foot down on my captor’s foot. “Go phhuck yourshelff,” I snarled, my words muffled behind the hand.
Sterling laughed as he thrust his fingers into my hair, grabbing a hold of my head and shoving me forward toward the tunnel. “Watch it with this one. She likes it rough.”