Thicker Than Blood (Thicker Than Blood #1)(97)

With a sigh, his lips pressed against my cheek and then lower, to my neck. “I had a girlfriend before,” he murmured, his teeth grazing the skin along my collarbone. “She was beautiful…I was gonna marry her.”

His tongue darted out, licking its way across my neck, pausing every so often to stop and suckle my skin as he ignored my soft whimpers. “Looked a lot like you,” he whispered.

Behind me, my nails were digging into the brick as I desperately tried to figure a way out of this.

“You should wait,” I stammered. “Wait until you’re sure he’s dead.” It killed me to say it, to even think of Alex dying, but I had to stall him, had to say something to try to save myself from being raped, or worse, from being claimed.

One hand found my breast, his other my backside. Ignoring me, he continued his assault on my neck while his groping became more and more fevered.

“Please,” I pleaded. “Please, you need to wait, please…please…”

His hands pulled up the hem of my dress and I reacted, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him away. As he took a surprised step backward, I reached for my knife. About to pull it free from its holster, I was suddenly faced with the barrel of a gun.

I froze, letting my hand fall back to my side. Blinking through my gathering tears, I tried to focus blurrily on the man in front of me. “I don’t even know your name,” I whispered, frantically grasping at straws. “You have to at least tell me your name.”

Still holding the gun to my face, he reached forward to pull my knife free and toss it aside. As it clanked against the cement several times, signaling that it was lost to me, my eyes closed, tears of defeat leaking free.

“So pretty,” he murmured, using his free hand to brush away the moisture from my cheeks. “Such a good, sweet woman. Don’t find that anymore. You’re a dying breed, sweetheart.”

The gun disappeared as he took his hand away, slipping the weapon into the back of his pants. Again, he pressed his body against mine, and again he went for the hem of my dress.

His movements were quicker now, harsher, as he fumbled to drag my leggings down. When he slid his hand between my thighs, I let out a small cry that he quickly squelched with his mouth.

“No!” I screamed, turning out of his kiss. “No! Please, someone, help me! Help! Help! HELP ME!”

“They can’t hear you, sweetheart,” he growled, gripping the back of my thighs. With a grunt, he lifted me up off the ground, and then I could feel him, jutting between my thighs, hard and intrusive.

My arms flailed, my hands pushing helplessly at his face, at his shoulders, gripping his hair and pulling as hard as I could, but he wouldn’t be deterred. Even when I managed to sink my nails into his cheek and tear them across his skin, he only grunted in pain and continued to push inside me.

The more he pushed, the more I flailed and the louder I screamed. Grabbing hold of anything I could—his arms, his shoulders, his shirt—I pulled and pushed, and screamed, and…

Suddenly I found the handle of his gun jutting from the back of his pants. Gripping it, I pulled it free and lifted it to his head. My hand shaking fiercely, my grip on the gun no better than jelly, I pressed it against his temple.

“Let me go or I’ll kill you,” I whispered through ragged breaths.

He went instantly still, his body frozen against mine, the part of him he’d managed to inch inside me pulsing angrily in time to his rapid heartbeat.

All at once he dropped me, and I would have gone sprawling face-first to the ground if it weren’t for my leggings still wrapped around my ankles, tripping me up, and causing me to fall back against the wall.

Keeping the trembling gun trained on him, I smiled bitterly as tears poured down my cheeks. “Do you know what I did to the last man who raped me?”

He opened his mouth, maybe to apologize, maybe to beg for his life, maybe to say something crude and uncaring. But I would never find out. Utterly unconcerned with what he had to say, I pulled the trigger, blowing a hole through his shoulder. He staggered backward, his eyes wide, his hand reaching for the bleeding wound before falling to his knees.

Still shaking, I aimed again, this time hoping for his heart.

“Lei!”

Alex’s voice tore my gaze away from my target. Shirtless, covered in blood spatter from head to toe, Alex stood only a few feet away from me, his chest heaving with anger. He was almost unrecognizable to me, his hair an unruly mess, blood dripping from his short beard, dripping down his chest and arms, and from his clenched fists. His body was trembling, his eyes were wild, crazed even, darting recklessly between me and the man on the ground, looking as if he wanted to rip him to shreds with his bare hands. Looking as if he could rip him to shreds with only his bare hands.

Beside him was Jeffers, whose large arm was held out in front of Alex, refusing to let him any farther than where he stood. Next to Jeffers stood Liv, and behind the three of them was a growing mob of people, jumping and shoving as they tried to see past one another.

“Help…me…” the man called out hoarsely, looking up to Jeffers with pleading eyes.

It was Liv who answered. Taking a deliberate step forward, she waved her hand dismissively at my attacker. Then, not bothering to spare him a second glance, she smirked at me. “Finish it.” She snarled at me, her tone taunting, her eyebrows arched with intrigue. “Those are our rules.”