Page 38 of Hostile Heir

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“What the fuck are you doing?” The sinister hiss of the question crawls over me like a thousand millipedes.

I straighten to face a guy whose small eyes are sunken into his skull below a tight navy bandana that hides his forehead. His slow skulk makes me uneasy, especially when his reptilian slitted eyes dawdle on my chest as he scrubs an unkempt goatee with nicotine-stained fingers.

“Stretching my legs.'' My reply is less than friendly with my guard up, even though there’s only air and cotton protecting me.

“Like fuck you are.” His eyes slither over my skimpy attire and exposed flesh. Then he glances over his shoulder as if checking no one else is around.

“Where’s Tomás?” I ask, taking a quick scope of the manicured gardens in case I need to run.

His lips curl. “None of your business,puta.” Patting the gun snug to his hip, he advances toward me. “You think you can sneak about, and no one will catch you?”

“I’m not sneaking.” I spit out, standing my ground. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not wearing any cuffs. Tomás has allowed me to walk about.”

“Is that so?” Bushy brows hitch to the stars and he thumbs his lips with a contemplative swipe.

Disgust prickles my scalp. I can see what he's thinking by that one glance. That lewd glaze crackling with wrongful intentions.

“Seems to me like you’re looking for trouble. And guess what?” I swallow hard and stay quiet, refusing to give him what he wants. Fear. “You found a whole heap of trouble tonight. You’re a nobody. When Tomás is finished with you, he’ll bag your corpse and pack it in the walls of his next construction project. Do you really think you could survive the Souzas?”

“You’re not a Souza,” I bite back. “You’re a hired goon, paid to do whattheytell you. The only difference between you and me, is that you choose to take orders, because you’ve got no future of your own. I’m here against my will.”

It happens like a lightning bolt, sharp and instant. The crack connecting with my head knocks me sideways. Pain spreads through my skull and my teeth jar. Heat blooms in a trickle, exiting the wound he’d created from a chunky silver ring.

Blood trails out of my hairline like he’s split my face in half with a bold marker. My lungs expand and contract in bursts, the anger becoming untamed within me. How fucking dare he. In mindless retaliation, I slap his clean-shaven cheek with so much force that he staggers.

“You fucking bitch.” He stretches out his jaw and glares at me. “You’ll pay for that.” Adrenaline spears my lungs, so they heave.

My vision blurs and my heart rate soars in preparation for flight. He snares my wrist, shoves me hard, and crowds me against the wall of the house. I try to duck low, only to feel a choking grip on my throat.

Anger vibrates from his muscles, his smoky breath close to my face. I struggle to gasp for air, to scream, and claw at his vice like grip.

I’m pinned to the wall, fighting a battle I’m powerless to win. Boots kick my ankles to part my legs. His free hand dives under the t-shirt and gropes my breasts.

“Stop,” I wheeze out.

“Remember what I said?” He lifts the fabric higher to reveal my body to him. “You're nobody.”

My stomach churns when his mouth hunts out my nipple and his teeth snare it. This isn’t the violence I crave. This is unwanted, repulsive, and wrong. It’s nothing like the wicked torture Tomás introduced me to. So far removed from his touch that I only wish I could scream at myself for being aware of the difference.

The more I thrash, the harder he bites. My head slams into the sandstone and my fists fly. I somehow muster enough strength to punch his temple. Rather than stop him, his menacing laugh cackles in the dead of night.

He releases my nipple, unhands my throat, grabs a fistful of t-shirt, and ruthlessly yanks the material. I hear it rip like he’s stripping the flesh from my bones.

But he underestimates me. He thinks I’m weak, a cheap whore for his amusement. Filling my lungs, I project the air outwards in a blood-curdling scream and dart sideways. A bulky arm blocks my retreat and a hand covers my mouth to muffle the ear-piercing shriek.

We wrestle until he skillfully cuts my legs out from under me. I hit the stones with force, landing awkwardly. He pins my wrists above my head and climbs onto my pelvis.

“One more scream and I’ll ram my cock so deep into your throat you’ll choke on it.” His arching form suffocates the serene glow of the all-seeing moon, casting me into darkness. The whites of his eyes glow as he fumbles with his zipper.

“Get off me.” I buck my hips and yell again, only to watch his hand glide through the air and feel a harsh slap against my cheek. My eyes roll on impact and tears finally fall.

As he burns my ability to fight to cinders, I curse the day I moved to Bogotá for an adventure.

“I caught you spying on us. You’re a lying puta who’s planning to assassinate Tommy. No one will care what I do to you. This pussy is all…” As he reaches between my legs and cups me with a grotesque grunt, I hear a whirlwind of stones and feel his body lurch.

Soft fur skims my legs. Without delay, razor-sharp teeth clamp onto his left shin and Brutus snarls like the savage protector he was taught to be. The man throws his other foot at the crazed dog, doing his best to shake off the savage jaws yanking him off me.

I take the opportunity to reach for his revolver, still wedged in his belt. Once it's in my possession, I clamber to my feet and take a distorted aim. My hands tremble with cold blooded anger and the desire for justice. But the second he punches Brutus in the ribs, I snap the trigger.


Tags: Autumn Archer Romance