Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Santos doesn’t hit me straight on. No, because he’s a crazy fucker, he slams his fist against my left eye and another on my right ear, cranking the pain level up to ten thousand.
“Not much to say now, eh, puta? You love that thick, brown cock don’t you?”
My heart thumps against my chest, my mind at a loss for what to do next. I flash a smile that I don’t feel.
“Just kill me, Mr. Santos. Please,” I say, barely audible to even me.
He winks at me and says, “Not yet, chica. I’m not done with you.” Then he turns to Nogales. “Let her down, man. Get her ready for the next round. My dick is getting hard.”
I freeze, not willing to believe it’s over. Eventually, my legs hit the concrete floor and my hands follow. I wiggle my arms to get the blood flow going and suck in as much air as I can now that I’m free of the rope, peripherally aware that my naked body is completely exposed to a bunch of maniacs.
“Perfecto,” I hear Santos say, and before I can fully stand his hand curls around my stomach and he yanks me back.
Behind me, the head of his cock is nudging against me and he pulls back for a few cursory spits, pushes me over and then he rams it in deep.
“Not so pretty and perfect no more, are you, puta?” He says as he grabs my hips and pumps into me.
I cry out and bite down on my lip until I taste the coppery, metallic blood spill on my tongue, refusing to make a sound while he grunts and moans.
Every few seconds, his hand lands on my ass, hard, punctuating the rough grunts that fall from his mouth. Ten or twelve pumps later, my ass feels like fire but thank fuck, he finishes. I feel his cock pulse within me before he slips out with a sigh.
“Tough bitch, eh? Let’s see how tough you are when your bitch ass boyfriend can’t stand to look at your whore face anymore.”
Santos leans down in front of me so we’re face to face. “You might think he loves you, but look carefully at his eyes, that hint of disgust because you laid down with the enemy, that you’re tainted goods. And when you cry yourself to sleep at night, remember who did that.”
With those parting words, he stands up, tucks himself back in and leaves the warehouse, taking four men with him.
Leaving six behind. Seven, if Nogales is still here.
I suck in several deep breaths and let them out slowly, gathering my calm and my nerves for whatever comes next. I try to walk, but between the shakiness and numbness, I’m like a baby giraffe trying to get around the room.
I finally give up and sit on the cold concrete, wrapping my bruised and bloodied arms around myself, and scan the area. Two men are at the main door, heavily armed. One off in the distance, the sound of his footsteps the only sign he’s there.
Tears spill down my face, making it difficult to make out the features of the three men guarding a metal door I only just notice. Must be something important in there, and through my tears, I try to lock the location in my mind.
Over my shoulder, I notice Nogales is gone, and I allow myself to relax for a few minutes. Deep breathe. I want to puke. To throw up everything inside but I’m afraid if I do, they’ll make me clean it up—or worse.
So I just keep breathing.
Will Coop ever find me? Breathe.
Or the cops? Breathe.
What about Kenna? Is she safe?
She was right about these bikers and if I live through this, she’ll be the first to say I told you so.
More deep breaths.
I wonder what these maniacs are going to do with me now? Hector said he’d let his home boys have me.
Is he out rounding them up?
God, if you’re up there, take me now.
The sound of quick steps pulls my attention to the two men at the door rushing off.
Something’s happening. Knowing I might not get this chance again, I push up to my feet, take a deep breath and make a run for it. My legs feel as if they’re stuck in quicksand, but I push through and urge them to move faster.
I make it through the doors before I’m hit with what I think is a bullet at first. I grab my chest frantically in search of a bullet hole or blood, but as I fall backward, I see Nogales’ sneering face staring down at me.
“Knew you couldn’t be trusted.” He shakes his head and smacks his lips like a disapproving parent. “Just where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He grabs a handful of my hair and lifts me up, dragging me back into the warehouse as I scramble to get a solid footing.