Bobby yanks her beside him on the couch. Instinctively, I move toward her. Like something snapped inside me. I can’t fucking handle another man touching her. And that’s a mistake, because a baseball bat swings at me fast. I barely have time to snatch it mid-air, but my stomach is met with a gut punch from someone else.
“You like her, hm?” Bobby says, then cackles. He rests his arm around her, drawing her close.
Boilingmy blood.
He adds casually, “Drake’s right. Nice rack. And I do like the innocent faces.” She squirms to stand, but he holds her in place, then tugs at her neckline to see more.
She swats his hand, causing the men to chuckle.
The muscles in my jaw grind my molars. My hands flex. But I stay still. Racing through ways to get out of this mess. To save her.
Country boy raises his hands, smiling like a game show host. “I think it’s time to collect, huh, Bobby?”
“I’ll get you the money,” I say fast. Too fast. Too desperate. The whole damn room heard it. That girl? She means something to me. And I hate that she does.
“Money?” Charlotte repeats, blinking. She looks at Bobby. “Wait... aren’t you Grayson’s brother?”
Laughter explodes across the room, ugly and loud.
Except me.
Bobby looks at the others. “I don’t think Grayson has the money. So why don’t we show him we mean business? Starting withher.”
“I told you! I’ll get you the money. Tomorrow! I promise!” I plead.
However, Bobby leans in, sniffing her neck. “Goddamn, what a sweet little thing you are!”
Then, he eyes me. “Let’s see if her pussy smells just as sweet.” He licks her face and drags his lips against her cheek.
She chokes back a sob, face red, whole body shaking.
And I fuckingsnap.
I elbow the guy next to me, sending him tumbling, then lunge forward, ready to rip off Bobby’s greasy head.
Whip-tight pain sears across my throat.
I choke.
Tattooed fucker is behind me with a thin garrote wire digging into my throat, biting deep.
“Grayson!” Charlotte screams.
My knees buckle as country boy slams a fist into my stomach.
Another, and another.
Knuckles meet my face.
The wire pulls tighter, cutting off air. I claw at my neck, nails scraping skin, useless.
Then I see it. The gun. Pressed against Charlotte’s temple.
My vision blurs and I stop fighting to regain some oxygen.
Bobby smiles, watching me as his hand creeps up her thigh.
“You wanna know what I went in for, little girl?” he whispers, his salt and pepper black hair falling forward as he nears her face.
