Tears of Tess (Monsters in the Dark #1)(12)

Rage, passion, and horror exploded, and I chomped down on the man’s palm, tasting rust from breaking flesh.

“Puta!” he cursed as I wriggled, trying to jerk my knee between his legs.

“Brax! Wake up!” I kicked free, only to be captured by Leather Jacket. He hissed something in my ear I didn’t understand. His awful fingers squeezed a breast, and dragged me away from Brax.

“No! Let me go!” I screamed, too angry and focused on survival to cry. “Fucking bastard, leave me the f*ck alone!”

Another rancid hand clamped over my mouth and nose, cutting off oxygen. Lungs bucked, kicking in my chest.

I slammed my hip back, connecting with the soft meat between my captor’s legs. Leather Jacket howled and shoved me away, hunched over his injured cock.

Run, Tess. Run.

I whimpered, caught in indecision. I wanted to check on Brax but I had to get away. Find help then rescue him. But no matter how hard I fought, there were always more men. It was like fighting quick sand—a battle I couldn’t win.

“Brax! God’s sake I need y—”

Leather Jacket took two steps and sucker-punched me in the jaw.

Fireworks exploded behind my eyes, and I fell. Falling, falling, heavy and useless. The floor welcomed with a teeth-rattling embrace. Colours danced in front of my eyes as sickness tried to claim me.

Someone pressed into my lower back, wrenching arms behind me, and wrapping something coarse and tight around my wrists.

He jerked me upright. The world swam with vertigo, leaving me upside down, back to front.

Leather Jacket’s evil eyes glinted with pleasure as he smothered me with a black hood.





Dove



My sense of smell returned first.

Touch, taste, sound, sight, all remained dormant. But smell. How could I ignore the reek?

Stale sweat and the ammonia of piss. Musk, body odour, and garbage.

My stomach flopped, turning me into a pretzel of horror.

Brax!

Oh, God, Brax. Was he okay? Was he dead? All that blood. My lungs went on strike. Brax was back there—wherever there was, alone and in pain. Would I ever see him again? Thoughts rammed like dodgems in my skull. My head pounded with a nasty headache.

Fear, rank and cloying, crawled up my throat. That bastard had been so eager to hit me, as if he lived to be violent. I had no hope against men like that. I knew it was weak, but I wished they’d killed me rather than take me. Who knew what brutality existed in my future.

Another whiff of ammonia; I gagged behind my hood, hoping I didn’t throw up and drown in vomit. I panted, forcing the urge away.

Just remain calm. I’d relied on myself all my life. If I got into trouble, my parents were too busy with my brother to offer a shoulder to cry on. I turned to myself in happiness and in terror. I would get out of this. No one was going to take my freedom.

I slid to the side suddenly, gravity extracting a toll as we careened around a corner. Wits came back, battling the foggy pain. I must be in a vehicle.

My sense of hearing returned.

A whimper sounded. I jerked, trying to move away, only for the whimper to grow into a wail. The plea was undoubtedly feminine.

A man cursed, followed by a thud and a cry.

How many victims were in here? I didn’t want to die. A tragic statistic of another tourist kidnapped in Mexico. Brax and I were so stupid, travelling with the illusion of being untouchable.

More whimpers and gruff commands as the engine hummed and tyres squealed, gripping the road, taking corners too fast.

I wasn’t alone. There were others. Others taken. Stolen. Abducted.

I shouldn’t have taken comfort in that, but I did. Just the knowledge I might have allies gave me a burst of hope.

My sense of taste returned.

Immediately, the horrible stench coated my tongue, along with the sweet residue of Coke and sharp tang of terror.

The Coke reminded me of Brax, and I plummeted into heartache. Even if I did manage to escape, how would I ever find Brax? I had no clue where the café was, or how we got there. Would the hotel come looking when we didn’t return with the scooter?

My throat latched closed, tormented by images of Brax dying on the lonely wasteland of a men’s bathroom floor. Surely, they wouldn’t let him die. Someone would take him to hospital.

They took me. They took me.

Oh, God. The realization hit like a ten-ton cruise ship. They took me! I was powerless.

My breath steamed the inside of the hood, melting my ears and eyelashes with panicked heat. My vision remained black and useless. The hood obscured everything, hushing the surroundings with dirty cloth.

A rough hand landed on my thigh, squeezing hard. Jumping, I tried to crawl away, but the bindings on my wrists yanked me to a halt.

A language I didn’t understand lilted, twisting my heart, making me wish I could wake up and it would all be a nightmare.

The hand clutched my thigh again, wrenching my knees apart.

Red flashed in my vision. I welcomed the rage and kicked as hard as possible. I screamed as an unwelcome hand groped between my legs. My leggings didn’t offer any resistance from the horrible pressure. I suffered a slap to the side of my head as I fought.

The fingers disappeared, and I choked on the sudden rush of relief. I coughed, hacking up every emotion inside. This couldn’t be happening.

The vehicle screeched to a stop, and the clunking of doors opening resonated. Heartbeats pounded in my ears like heavy drums.