The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2)(124)
Chapter Forty-One
Chuito’s screams followed her all the way up the stairs. Something about them was a thousand times more horrible than the idea that this boy trapped inside the muscular body of a man was going to do things to her that were ghastly enough to make her scream so loudly Chuito could hear it downstairs.
Junior let go of his hold on her mouth to push at the door to the bedroom she and Chuito had been sharing. Knowing it was going to be here, where Chuito had loved her a few hours earlier, made her more than terrified. She was angry, and she screamed out, “I HATE YOU, TINO! I HATE YOU!” Junior shoved the door shut and pushed her against it, but she kept screaming because it was Tino who did this to them. It was him who sold her for a couple more minutes, when Chuito was going to repent instead, and they could get out of this terrible place. “I HATE YOU!” She hit Junior’s chest. “I HATE ALL OF YOU!”
She realized she was breaking down, having some sort of massive psychological crack. Junior was talking, his lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear him. All she did was rage, mainly at Tino, because she had a name for him, and he was supposed to be her friend.
Junior slammed his hand over her mouth again. “Listen to me! Stop screaming for a moment and listen, mami.”
He lifted his hand.
“DON’T CALL ME THAT!” she screamed and tried to reach for the doorknob, but he was blocking it. “NEVER!” She hit his chest, shoving him back from the door. “NEVER! YOU CAN HURT ME! BUT YOU CAN’T CALL ME THAT! NEVER!”
“I’m not hurting you,” he snapped at her. “Am I hurting you right now? Do you see me hurting you? You are freaking out by yourself.”
She sucked in a startled breath, because she realized he was right. He was just standing there, looking at her like she had lost her mind.
“W-why aren’t you hurting me?” she asked, her voice shaking as she looked at the door. “W-why did y-you bring me in here if—”
“I’m trying to help you,” he said in a low, cautious voice. “I’m not gonna rape you. Are you listening to me now?”
“I—” She looked to the door again and then nodded. “Yes.”
“You have to take off your clothes,” he said slowly. “If they come up here and you’re not naked, we’re both dead.”
She let out a sob and turned back to the door, flattening herself against it. “I don’t want this to happen. Why is this happening to us?”
“I’m not gonna hurt you, but you need to make them think I’m hurting you. I sent a message to Marcos. We just got to stay alive until he gets here. You have to get undressed. We both do. We’ll fake it.” He gripped at the back of his shirt, pulling it off in one quick movement. “It’s not real. It’s fake.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered as she glanced over her shoulder and stared at his chest, because so much about him looked like Chuito. The stars on his shoulders. The snake on his arm. The cross over his heart. It had different names, but it was still so horrifically familiar. He had more tattoos than Chuito, but there was so much that was the same. “Why do you look like that? Why do you sound like that? I don’t want you to sound like that.”
He gave her a look of disbelief. “I thought you liked Latinos.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t like you.”
“Mami—”
She screamed, because hearing a man who wanted her to strip naked for him, who looked like Chuito, call her that was too much.
It was way too much.
“Ay Dios mio,” he groaned behind her but let her scream. “Fine, scream, chica. Be a princess. Scream your head off when I’m risking my neck to save your skinny gringa ass. That’s what they wanted to hear anyway, f*cking sick hijos de putas.”
Actually, the screaming helped.
So did crying, and she sank down to her knees and let out a sob when her throat got raw. Then, as she sat there on her knees, she realized that this boy really wasn’t hurting her. She turned back, looking up at him standing there, huge and imposing.
“Are you really trying to help us?”
“Duh.” He held out his hands. “I’m not raping you, am I?”
“W-why?” she asked and then wanted to kick herself. “I mean, why would you want to help?”
“Scream again, and I’ll tell you,” he countered with an arch of his eyebrow.
She screamed, and it was easy, but then when she stopped, she heard Chuito from downstairs. Alaine put her hand on the door, hearing Chuito’s agony that was so much worse than hers. He kept screaming, now completely in Spanish, and she wondered what he was cursing about.
She turned back to Junior. “What is he saying?”
“Co?o, no.” He shook his head as he gave Alaine a look of horror. “You don’t want to know. I don’t even know where he got an idea like that, but he’s being really graphic about it.”
“What is it?”
“He says he’s gonna rip off Angel’s balls and feed them to him.” Junior winced and looked to the door. “I thought all the rumors about him were a myth. He sounds f*cking serious. I’ve seen a lot of nasty shit, but that’s grim.”
Alaine took a shuddering breath. “Tell me why you’re helping us.”