Page 90 of Keep Me Safe
He seized my wrists and raised them, making me scream. If it was anything other than burning, I might have been able to be quiet. My hands were pressed into the mattress above my head, and this was more effective than the handcuffs. I couldn’t move. If I tried, there would be extreme and immediate punishment.
“You promised,” I whispered and closed my eyes, letting loose the tears that had collected there.
“I lied.” His lips smothered mine.
When his fingers fumbled at the button of my pants, I jerked instinctively, and searing pain bolted through me. It was like I was being flattened by a hot iron on all sides.
“Don’t worry, it won’t last long,” he said.
“The drugs or the rape?”
Unwise, but worth it.
He stopped what he was doing to climb on top of me. Then he kissed me, making everything burn. He coursed his palms along my body, touching and scorching every inch of me. I had to simply lie there and fucking take it, let him do it.
A sharp rap on the door made him pause.
The Italian words from the other side were hurried and loud, and it was clear Juric didn’t like them. His face twisted into the same expression he had whenever I said Laurel’s name, signifying he was right on the edge.
The hand he wrapped around my throat was a necklace of fire.
“Seems like the marshal can’t follow simple instructions and doesn’t care if you die.” His hand slowly slid away from my neck, flames trailing in its wake. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised he found us, but I’m all for getting this over with.”
A few more seconds of burning, then he was gone from the bed. I could hear him moving around, followed by a sound of metal sliding against metal. He passed by where I could see him carrying a gun.
Footsteps led him away.
A door opened and slammed shut.
I was alone.
Forever passed before anything happened. Far off, a loud squeal of tires as cars approached and braked rapidly. I couldn’t breathe the sigh of relief I wanted to because of the pain. Was this my rescue?
A loud boom sounded outside, like a cannon going off. It shook the windowpane, followed by . . . fireworks?
No. Gunfire.
I needed to get off the bed, to either hide or run, but I couldn’t move without burning alive. There came another volley of shooting and shouting. I tried to move my fingers, sending pain straight up my arm.
Maybe the agony was what distracted me. I hadn’t heard the door open or close, but I was suddenly aware I was no longer alone. The man moved silently even though he was at least six-and-a-half feet tall.
Ethan came into view, staring down at me with concern. He knew something was wrong. I was lying in a strange position and much too still given the gun battle raging outside.
“Ethan?” I whispered.
He ignored me, surveying the room, then his gaze returned. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can you move?”
“No, he drugged me, and it feels?—”
He gently grasped my arm, and I screamed, the pain shifting to pins and needles rather than pure fire. He released me with a look that said I needed to be quiet and studied me, unsure of how to proceed.
“It’s too painful to move,” I explained between two enormous breaths.
There came another loud explosion that made up his mind. He grabbed the pillow beside me, yanked the pillowcase off, and twisted it in his hands. “We can’t stay here. Open your mouth.”
