“Then who are you talking to right now?”
“Myself. Just myself.”
“Yeah? Then maybe you should listen to yourself. You are a fucking warrior, and it’s about time you owned it. If you want to be a don’s wife, you have to act like a don’s wife.”
“Come here.”
The monster grabs my arm and pulls me to him. My body slams against his chest and I realize just how big he is, just how strong he is.
I can also feel his erection against my thigh and I have to bite down on my tongue to keep from gagging right in his fucking face.
No matter how determined I am to fight back, there’s no getting around the fact that he’s bigger than me. Stronger than me. More trained, more capable than me.
The one thing he’s not is more desperate.
I glance around as he slides his tongue along the curve of my neck.
There are several objects I can use as weapons, but I need to get my hands on them first.
“The table,” I say.
“What?” he asks distractedly.
“Let’s go to the table over there. I don’t want Phoenix seeing this.”
He rolls his eyes but he wrenches me towards the table so hard it feels as though he’s trying to pull my hand right out of the socket.
My eyes stay fixed on the giant candlestand in the center of the table.
Eagle Tattoo pushes me back against the table in the same way and starts undoing the zip on my jeans. He’s so absorbed with his task that he doesn’t see me reach for the candlestand.
He doesn’t see me cock it back.
He doesn’t see me grit my teeth, summon all the strength in my body, and bring it crashing down over his head.
Or at least, that’s what I planned.
But he looks up at the very last second, sees what’s happening, and pivots enough.
Just enough.
Instead of cracking open his skull like I did in that little diner in Mexico, this time, all I do is catch him on the shoulder.
He grunts in pain.
His face turns dark.
And he wrenches the candlestand out of my hands and flings it across the room.
In the same motion, he pins my wrist against the tabletop and leans all his weight on it so hard I cry out.
“You fucking bitch!” he roars in my face, his skin tuning an ugly hue of red. “You fucking whore! I was gonna be gentle with you, but now I’m going to rip you in half.”
He slaps me across the face.
But I keep struggling. I keep fighting.
Because I understand something about myself in this moment.