Kings of Chaos (Dirty Broken Savages #1)(85)

Still, I follow the instructions, finding the path she mentioned easily. Everything about this place is sketchy as hell, especially at night when everything is dark and there are barely any streetlights to see by. But the path Ivan picked is especially dark. The trees close in on either side of it, and it would probably be nice in the daytime, with the trees giving some shade from the sun, but at night, it’s just dark and creepy.

Shadows loom on either side, and just walking past the trees gives that feeling of being watched or followed, even though I know both are probably true right now.

The path is lightly paved, grass growing on either side, and my heels tap on the pavement as I walk. I keep forcing myself to move at a leisurely pace. To not rush. I’m supposed to be unsuspecting and helpless or whatever the fuck gets Ivan off.

I walk for about five minutes when I hear someone moving behind me. My body wants to tense up, but I force myself to keep moving. The footsteps get faster, and then strong arms are around me, grabbing me, dragging me back against the hard line of a male body.

Even without seeing his face or hearing his voice, I know it’s him. Ivan. I know it by the way he breathes, the way he smells, the way my body lurches with the fight or flight desire to both beat the shit out of him and get away from him as fast as I can.

Just the touch of his hands on my skin brings back a torrent of memories that I don’t want.

For just a second, I’m a teenager again. Scared and huddled in the corner with my sister. Ivan comes and stands over me. The others are in the background, egging him on. He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me away from the corner and Hannah. He leers at me where my clothes are torn and dirty, and his hands are everywhere. He’s bigger than me, stronger, and he gets off on knowing that I know that. He laughs when I struggle, when I cry. It’s all a game to him, and he’s winning.

In the present, his hands start moving over my body. One slides down to my ass, palming it roughly, and he squeezes at my tits with the other hand. I’m frozen for a second, caught up in the memories and the fear that doesn’t feel like it’s mine anymore, but which holds me all the same.

The slight pain from him squeezing near my new piercing shakes me out of the memories, and when he turns me around to face him and pushes me against a tree, I can breathe again.

I drag in a slow breath through my nose, gathering myself. Reminding myself why I’m here. I’m not that kid anymore. He doesn’t have the upper hand.

Not that he knows that.

The bark is rough against my back as he presses me to it, not giving a shit about my comfort. He’s already panting and eager. Ivan kisses at my neck, and I can feel his stubble and the heat of his breath against my skin.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he breathes into my ear. “I just want to have a little fun. You’re so fucking hot, and I can’t help myself. So just hold still, and nothing bad has to happen.”

Hearing his voice again, saying that bullshit, is enough to make anger simmer in me, edging out the fear once and for all. I know what I’m here to do.

His hands go low again, pulling up the hem of my skirt, and I snap into action. I rear back and then headbutt him, getting him right in the throat.

Ivan splutters and backs up a bit, coughing and wheezing. When he looks up, he’s glaring at me, but anger isn’t the only heat in his eyes.

“What the fuck, you bitch?” he snarls, his voice a low hiss. “You’re supposed to struggle, not fight back.”

But he’s hard. I can tell from the way his pants are tented. He likes the fight. Likes the idea of having to subdue me first before he can take what he wants. He wants to be rougher about it.

Ivan grabs me again, and I know I’m right. He’s being rougher, almost violent as he yanks me closer to him. I can feel his hands digging into my skin, and it’s like his touch burns.

I struggle against him, trying to pull away, and his breath starts coming faster. When he presses me against the tree again, I can feel how hard he is, and he grinds against me, trying to get more friction.

“You can’t get away,” he breathes. “You’re mine now, bitch.”

I prove him wrong by breaking his hold and stumbling back, but he grabs me again and hauls me back in. His mouth goes to my neck, and he drags his tongue over my pulse point. There’s a sickening lurch in my stomach just from the feeling of it, and I knee him in the balls for the trouble.

Ivan curses in agony and drops to his knees in front of me, eyes screwed up in pain.

That’s my opening.

I’m wearing a bracelet that I picked up from a sketchy little shop a year or so ago. It’s silver and thin, with a little gemstone set into it. The gem is just big enough to grab, and when I pull at it, it slides out of place, attached to a thin wire that’s been wound into the bracelet.

Perfect to garrote a motherfucker who deserves it in the middle of the night.

I jump on Ivan’s back and wrap that wire around his neck, drawing it tight.

“Stop!” he gasps. “What are you doing?”

I still don’t speak.

He flails, trying to get free, but I hold on tight.

He’s still bigger and stronger than me, but I’m not weak. And determination burns through my body, giving me more strength. I hold the wire in place tightly, counting down in my head until he finally goes limp and slumps to the path.

For a second, everything is quiet.