Great Exploitations(20)

“Hi, Eve.” His was warm and genuine and reminded me of everything about Henry I’d fallen for so many years ago.

“Who’s Henry?”

The sharpness and nearness of the voice almost made me jolt. I hadn’t been expecting to hear that voice again, let alone on the private, restricted penthouse level.

“Eve? Who’s that?” Henry’s voice had morphed into something else—something that was a far cry from warm.

“It’s okay, Henry. I’m fine.” Turning around slowly, I dropped the phone to my side and put on a brave face.

Rob Tucker stood not even two feet in front of me, smelling, looking, and acting twice as drunk as he’d been when I’d left him in the lounge. Instead of a smirk, his face had something far more predatory.

“No, it’s not fine.” Rob stepped closer. That he could walk without stumbling indicated that he was drunk so often, he’d managed to perfect it. “But once we’re done here tonight, we’ll be a bit closer to fine.”

“Eve? What the hell? Who is that?”

I just barely made out Henry’s voice, but I couldn’t find the strength to hang up the phone. Despite him being half a world away, I felt some semblance of safety having some part of Henry with me—his anxious voice coming through a cell phone included.

“How did you get up here?” I asked, glaring at Rob.

“There’re two rooms up here, you know.” Sliding a card key from his pocket, he flashed it in front of me. “When I said I own this town, I meant it, sweetheart.”

Just as I reached into my purse to pull out the first weapon my fingers curled around, Rob grabbed my wrist and yanked me to him. I almost yelped but held it in. He was a predator, an intimidator, which meant he thrived off of his victims’ submission. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“And when I didn’t say out loud that you’re a brainless, dickless asshole, I meant that too.” I yanked against his hold, but he was strong and determined and drunk—the trifecta every woman learned to steer clear of if she made it through puberty.

“You women and your mouths. If you’d just figure out that hole was meant for the same purpose the other two were created for, there’d be no need for this.”

My first thought was to thank god I’d covered the phone’s speaker so Henry didn’t hear that, but that was soon followed by rage. That kind of human being didn’t deserve the oxygen he used.

“No need for what?” I seethed, stepping into him. By god, I wouldn’t back away from him.

Shrugging, Rob answered, “For this.” He reached his free arm back and brought it around until his fist connected with my jaw.

I’d been hit before. A bunch of times growing up with a mouth that had gotten me into trouble on the playground with the other girls, and one time from a piece-of-shit boyfriend in high school. I knew how to take a hit, but that one . . . that hit leveled me.

The air rushed out of my lungs when I collided with the floor. The phone and my purse flew across the hall. I was aware of Rob standing over me chuckling, and that my ears were buzzing and my jaw was throbbing, but the only thing I focused on was the sound of Henry’s voice through the phone. It had landed close to my head, and he sounded as worried as I should have been. He kept repeating my name like a mantra, and it was calming. Comforting even.

Once I felt as though my lungs weren’t two deflated balloons, I twisted onto my back so I could pick up where I’d left off in glaring at Rob. The son of a bitch had hit me hard. He was going down. “Is that all you’ve got? So much for being a pinnacle of a man like you think you are.”

The first thing that should have warned me things weren’t going to end well for me was when he slowly rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. Anyone rolling up their sleeves with that maniacal of a smile was a sure sign no good was to come. The second sign? He undid his belt and pulled it from his pants as though he was preparing to use it as a weapon.

I scanned the hall for my purse, but it had gone in pretty much the opposite direction my body had. If I could unbuckle a strap and get off one of my heels, I could use that as a weapon. Then I saw the plastic bag sitting beside the door next to me. Where a couple of bottles and a pair of nail clippers sat. Nail clippers with a close-enough-to-a-knife file. If I could get to those, I could do a little damage.

As soon as I started to crawl toward the bag, I felt the first lash of his belt across my back. I was yelping from the first one when the second came, followed by a third and a fourth and so many more I lost track. Even through the crack of the belt and my howls of pain, I could make out Henry’s voice. He called out for me, and the anxiety in his voice shifted to enraged.