Hideaway
Page 82

 Penelope Douglas

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But Banks was watching me. I didn’t have to look at her to know that.
He finally put his feet down and looked up.
“I’m not relishing being let off the hook,” I replied calmly, biting out every word. “I’m singular, as well, and I’m not running. A deal is a deal, and you’re stuck with me.”
“Well, I have no more nieces to give you.”
I glanced at Banks and then back at him. “You have a daughter,” I pointed out.
His eyes flashed to me, I heard Banks suck in a breath, and goddamn, I nearly smiled.
“And I don’t care if she walks down the aisle in those grungy jeans she’s wearing right now,” I told him. “Get her ass to the church tonight, and you have my word that I won’t hurt your son. But if she’s not there…”
I reached into my breast pocket and pulled out a cell phone, holding it up.
His eyes narrowed. “What is that?”
“Is that…?” Banks stared at it and then looked to me. “You didn’t destroy it?”
I stood back up, tucking it back into my pocket. The cell phone was our yearbook in high school. It held pictures and video of all our deeds, good and bad, including the videos of the crimes that sent Damon, Will, and me to prison.
After Damon escaped last year, we intended to destroy it, but then we decided a little leverage wasn’t a bad idea. After erasing the videos that incriminated us in any further crimes, we loaded a couple flash drives with the ones of him.
And saved them.
The phone was for effect.
Of course, I could use the videos to threaten him like he was threatening me, but I still needed to know where Natalya Torrance was. I needed it dealt with.
I turned and walked for the door, my friends following.
“She’s a bastard,” he called out. “One of my many. What makes you think marrying her gives you any power over me? You know I don’t give a shit about her.”
We stopped, and I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes instantly locking on Banks.
She stood unmoving, staring at the desktop in front of her. Instinct told me to take her out of here right now. Take her home, and make sure she never had to hear anything like that again.
But she’d made her choices.
“You may not,” I replied, “but Damon does. He cares about her very much, doesn’t he? You could be dead in five years, but I’ll have your son—and sole heir—exactly where I want him.” I met Banks’s eyes. “If I have her.”
He took something I loved today. Now I take what he loves.
Banks
Present
Kai left the room, followed by Will and Michael, and the office fell silent until we heard the dull thud of the front door slamming shut.
Then my father launched out of his chair, swung around, and grabbed me with one hand, squeezing my jaw.
I gasped as his fingers dug in.
“I wish I could kill you,” he bit out, getting in my face. “I would snap your fucking neck in a second if I didn’t know that piece-of-shit son of mine would lose his little temper and do something stupid.”
He shoved me away, and I fell into David, who grabbed me before I fell and righted me.
“Make sure he gets her used,” he told David.
My breath shook. “What?”
But he didn’t answer me. He swung around the desk and charged out of the room, leaving me alone with the guys.
I pulled away from David and scurried off to the side, putting everyone in front of me. What the hell did he mean?
One of the young guys, McCandless, moved toward me slowly, a smile in his blue eyes.
But Ilia stepped up from the other side, putting a hand on his chest, stopping him.
A moment of relief hit me. I could take on one, but I couldn’t take them all. David, Lev, and Ilia wouldn’t hurt me.
But then Ilia’s icy blue eyes turned toward me, and he moved, taking off his jacket. “I’ve wanted this for a long time,” he said, tossing his jacket on my father’s desk.
My stomach sank to my feet, and my mouth fell open. God, I was going to throw up.
Combing a hand through his blond hair, he reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into his body.
I growled, twisting away, shoving him, and bolting. I ran for the door, but the two guards were there, and Ilia grabbed my jacket from behind, hauling me back and throwing me to the ground.
“Ah!” I cried out, pain shooting up my back, but I quickly flipped over and scrambled away.
The patio doors were there. It was only late afternoon, but it was getting dark. I could lose them in the forest.
Something caught my ankle, though, and pulled me back. I dug my nails into the hardwood floor, trying to get my knees under me to push off, but his weight crushed down, and I was panting for air as my lungs constricted.
My jacket, only secured with buttons, was ripped off me from behind, and hair hung in my face, my hat having fallen off at some point.
I looked around for David and Lev, not able to get my head up very far, but I couldn’t see them. Where were they? They wouldn’t let this happen, would they?
I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking with a silent sob I refused to let out.
I heard a shuffle behind me, more grunts, and it sounded like a table was falling over, but I couldn’t see.
And then his hand was in my jeans. They were being yanked against my hips, and everything inside kicked in. I thrashed, kicking and trying to twist around as I bared my teeth. As soon as I could face him, I was going to bite. Everything I’d told Rika to do.
He gripped my hair tight at my scalp, pushing my head into the floor as he pulled down my jeans. I clenched my jaw together, my face twisted and every muscle tight.
No.
No!
“Aren’t you going to scream?” he taunted in my ear. “Cry?”
No.
I felt him working his own jeans behind me, and then he leaned in again, slipping a hand down between my legs. “You can be mine,” he whispered. “Such a sweet, little whore.”
And I jerked up, twisting my neck more than it should’ve gone, and bit his cheek.
“Ugh!” he growled and turned away, loosening his grip long enough for me to shoot over and grab anything I could reach.
I latched onto the leg of a small, round end table and pulled, catching a crystal bowl that tumbled off. Taking it, I swung around and smashed it into the side of Ilia’s head, shards of glass falling everywhere as the dish crumbled in my hand.
Pressing the pieces left into his skin, I barely even noticed the sharp pain in my own hand as the chunks dug through my glove.
He cried out, tumbling to the side. I quickly kicked off my boots and jeans, still around my knees, and scrambled away from him. I slammed my hand down on Gabriel’s desk, pushing myself up, and saw the gold letter opener laying there.
“Come here, you bitch.”
Grabbing the sharp object and gripping it tight, I whipped around, not sure how close he was. It caught the side of his face, slicing a crimson line from ear to mouth.
He grabbed hold of his cheek, falling to his knees again. I fisted my hand, feeling the pain of the glass, and hit him as hard as I could again and again and again until I couldn’t breathe anymore.
He fell to his back, spent, and I stared at him, fingers still gripping the knife tightly. I fought not to go and sink the blade into his chest.
I wanted them all—everyone—to know they can’t hurt me. I don’t allow it.
Raising my eyes, I glared at Lev and David who stood on the other side of the room with Gabriel’s guards. David had one in a choke-hold, and Lev had the other pinned to the wall. That was what the scuffle was about that I’d heard.
They were protecting me, after all.
I dropped the letter opener on the floor and picked up the napkin sitting on top of Gabriel’s dinner dishes on his desk. Blood trickled down from my nose, around my lips, and dripped from my chin, and I wiped it away, tasting the metallic saltiness filter through my teeth.
I wrapped the napkin around my cut hand and stalked over to the man at David’s feet, squeezing my fist in his hair. “Get him and get out of here,” I said in a low tone, pushing him toward Ilia.
I’d be dead in a day if I called the police.
But justice would come. I’d make sure of it.