let another man touch what belonged to me. And maybe, if you’re lucky, I won’t kill you. Maybe I’ll take you back, if you promise to never cheat on me again.”
The crazy thing was, he meant every word. Richard honestly thought I’d want to be with him, completely ignoring the fact I’d tried to kill him. How had my life gotten to this? How did I become prey to this bastard?
The abuse had started slowly. It had been emotional at first, delivered so craftily I didn’t even notice it until it was too late. When that stopped working, he became violent. A push here, followed by an apology. A slap there, followed up with flowers and words of love.
That’s when I’d started planning my escape. I’d rediscovered my strength when I came here, to this inn. When I’d pulled that trigger and put an end to the abuse.
I’d be damned if I lost that strength again.
“I doubt I’ll go back to you,” I said sweetly. “After all, you’re nothing but a spineless, wormy coward who has no idea what it’s like to be a real man. Jeremy knows how to treat a woman, and he knows how to be a man, so I’d never regret being with him. Only you. I wish I never let you touch me, and I wish you had died when I shot you.”
Finally, for the first time ever, he lost his cool. Anger flushed his cheeks, his upper lip curled, and he growled. Hauling his fist back, he let it fly, and pain burst in my skull, making me crumble in Javi’s arms. Stars exploded into my vision.
“Drop her,” Richard said.
Javi obeyed immediately, and I hit the floor hard, banging my head. Suddenly, Richard was on top of me. “Take it back.”
Unable to speak, I did the one thing I knew would piss him off, because, God, I wanted to get under his skin…I laughed, spitting out blood with the sound.
Right in his face.
An animalistic sound escaped him, and his eyes bulged in rage as he stared down at me, unable to believe I’d disobeyed him. He lifted his hand and slapped me with his knuckles. I weakly pushed at his shoulders, but Javi pinned down my arms before I could get any leverage. I let out a loud scream, my one last attempt at freedom, but then his hand was on my throat, cutting off my air supply, and I knew with a sinking clarity that this was it.
And then the blackness took over.
Chapter 27
Jeremy was steps from the front door of the inn when he heard it. A fall leaf crunched behind him, and a soft breath was released. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and every instinct he’d ever trusted told him danger approached. He dropped the chandelier to the ground with a crash and spun with his gun drawn.
The man creeping up behind him froze for a split second, which is the only reason Jeremy didn’t end up with a bullet in his brain. Unlike the other man, he didn’t hesitate—his finger squeezed the trigger and the guy went down with a hit to his chest. Jeremy stared at him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the man was in the cartels.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Fueller? You out there?”
There was no answer from the agent on duty. Jeremy scanned the trees as he picked up the dead man’s gun and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. Finally he saw Fueller. He was on his back in the shadows, blood congealing on the ground from a bullet wound to the head. Cursing, Jeremy made a phone call to request backup and then wasted no time approaching the inn on light feet. Knowing Chelsea might be inside made him want to run up the stairs screaming her name, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good.
His pulse pounded. He should have come earlier, damn it, but he’d been trying to give her some time to cool off. She had every right to be angry, but he knew he had to get past that anger and find a way to make her see he hadn’t been lying to her about everything. He did love her, and he had no intention of giving up on her…again.
After a few more steps, he was in the foyer. The door was ajar, and he scanned the interior for
The crazy thing was, he meant every word. Richard honestly thought I’d want to be with him, completely ignoring the fact I’d tried to kill him. How had my life gotten to this? How did I become prey to this bastard?
The abuse had started slowly. It had been emotional at first, delivered so craftily I didn’t even notice it until it was too late. When that stopped working, he became violent. A push here, followed by an apology. A slap there, followed up with flowers and words of love.
That’s when I’d started planning my escape. I’d rediscovered my strength when I came here, to this inn. When I’d pulled that trigger and put an end to the abuse.
I’d be damned if I lost that strength again.
“I doubt I’ll go back to you,” I said sweetly. “After all, you’re nothing but a spineless, wormy coward who has no idea what it’s like to be a real man. Jeremy knows how to treat a woman, and he knows how to be a man, so I’d never regret being with him. Only you. I wish I never let you touch me, and I wish you had died when I shot you.”
Finally, for the first time ever, he lost his cool. Anger flushed his cheeks, his upper lip curled, and he growled. Hauling his fist back, he let it fly, and pain burst in my skull, making me crumble in Javi’s arms. Stars exploded into my vision.
“Drop her,” Richard said.
Javi obeyed immediately, and I hit the floor hard, banging my head. Suddenly, Richard was on top of me. “Take it back.”
Unable to speak, I did the one thing I knew would piss him off, because, God, I wanted to get under his skin…I laughed, spitting out blood with the sound.
Right in his face.
An animalistic sound escaped him, and his eyes bulged in rage as he stared down at me, unable to believe I’d disobeyed him. He lifted his hand and slapped me with his knuckles. I weakly pushed at his shoulders, but Javi pinned down my arms before I could get any leverage. I let out a loud scream, my one last attempt at freedom, but then his hand was on my throat, cutting off my air supply, and I knew with a sinking clarity that this was it.
And then the blackness took over.
Chapter 27
Jeremy was steps from the front door of the inn when he heard it. A fall leaf crunched behind him, and a soft breath was released. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and every instinct he’d ever trusted told him danger approached. He dropped the chandelier to the ground with a crash and spun with his gun drawn.
The man creeping up behind him froze for a split second, which is the only reason Jeremy didn’t end up with a bullet in his brain. Unlike the other man, he didn’t hesitate—his finger squeezed the trigger and the guy went down with a hit to his chest. Jeremy stared at him. It didn’t take a genius to figure out the man was in the cartels.
“Shit,” he muttered. “Fueller? You out there?”
There was no answer from the agent on duty. Jeremy scanned the trees as he picked up the dead man’s gun and tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. Finally he saw Fueller. He was on his back in the shadows, blood congealing on the ground from a bullet wound to the head. Cursing, Jeremy made a phone call to request backup and then wasted no time approaching the inn on light feet. Knowing Chelsea might be inside made him want to run up the stairs screaming her name, but that wouldn’t do either of them any good.
His pulse pounded. He should have come earlier, damn it, but he’d been trying to give her some time to cool off. She had every right to be angry, but he knew he had to get past that anger and find a way to make her see he hadn’t been lying to her about everything. He did love her, and he had no intention of giving up on her…again.
After a few more steps, he was in the foyer. The door was ajar, and he scanned the interior for
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