Page 65 of Raff
The same Raff who came running, gun in hand, when I’d been scared by a lizard.
Raff who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot this asshole to get him off of me.
He just needed to know.
My head was getting fuzzy.
My chest felt on fire.
But I was thinking clearly enough to stop trying to dislodge his hands and fumbled out toward the nightstand instead. Where a heavy water pitcher and glass combo had been set out by the staff before we arrived.
I grabbed it by the neck, pulled it up, then swung with everything I had left in me into the bastard’s face.
It was still hard to see in the dark room, but I was pretty sure I caught the bastard somewhere near his nose.
Wherever the blow landed, it was with enough force that his hands automatically released me.
I didn’t pause to count my luck.
I rolled to the other side of the bed while gasping for air, surprised how much oxygen could hurt after being deprived of it for so long.
Hands shot out, grabbing my ankles, then dragging me before I could even try to kick out.
I couldn’t even breathe fully yet, let alone scream for help before I was across the bed and his knees were pinning my thighs to keep me in place, a pain that was both blunt and oddly sharp at the same time.
But that was quickly replaced by a new one as a fist slammed into my face.
The pain was like an explosion—a central point of detonation that shot outward until my whole face screamed.
A sharp gasp escaped me but was cut off by a grunt as another blow landed—this time higher, by my eye.
Tears flooded involuntarily down my cheeks as my body rocked, wiggled, writhed, trying to get out from under the silent man’s bulky frame.
A third blow came, but landed near my ear as I jerked out of the way just in time.
Still, my mouth flooded with blood, and there was something hard mixed in with it. My tooth?
Pain, fear, and adrenaline mingled together, giving me more strength—enough to free one of my legs and shove it with everything I had into the guy’s chest, sending him back a step.
As I rolled again—this time toward the foot of the bed—I sucked in a breath and tried to scream.
But only a yelp managed to escape me as hands reached down, deciding to help me along, shoving me until I flew off the end of the bed, landing hard on my side—the impact once again stealing my breath.
Before I could find it again, I heard his heavy footsteps.
Then his body was coming over me, knees caging in my hips as he forced me onto my belly.
Pain ricocheted off every nerve ending as his hand grabbed the back of my neck and slammed my face against the floor.
He was too big, heavy, strong.
There was no getting out from under him.
I drew in as deep a breath as the position allowed.
Then I screamed.
“Raff!”
