Obsession (A Bad Boy's Secret Baby)(91)

Backup? What was he talking about? Frantically I shook my head, my gaze frozen on the pistol that would cut my life into ribbons. “No, I didn't—”

Curling his lip, he advanced on me, a hand winding in my hair. Screaming, I started to struggle on reflex. The icy metal of the pistol, jamming under my chin, stopped the noise short. “Wait,” I said, my hands at my sides, unsure where to go. “Don't do this. I don't know who's attacking you guys, but I have nothing to do with it!”

“I don't fucking care.” Yanking me further down the hall, Tully terrified me with every jolting step. What if he slipped and put a bullet through my skull? “You're coming with me. I'm getting on the boat, and if anyone tries to stop me, you'll make a perfect shield.”

In my mind's eye, I imagined how he'd hold me up, the lead slugs of other guns studding me like a new leather vest.

Sweating profusely, I willed myself to come up with a plan. I needed to stall. “What—what about Claudine? I thought she was special to you, why not go back and bring her along?”

Choking me as he hurried, Tully laughed. “That bitch isn't anymore special than a regular pair of thighs with a hole between them.” Lowering his mouth to my ear, he made a low noise that would always haunt my nightmares. “You'll be just as good for sticking my cock in, dear girl. Assuming you don't become a corpse, first.”

Tully was laughing, the air punctuated by the occasional gunfire, but it all felt so far away. No, I thought firmly. I'd said I wouldn't become a slave. I'd only come this far to save my sister, and that was done with. I would never let this man use me like this.

I'd die first.

In my fingers, the razor I yanked from my pocket moved smoothly. Tully squealed, throwing me aside as he cradled his bleeding wrist. But I wasn't done; I knew running wasn't enough.

As he hunched low, grimacing, I slammed into his shoulder. The fat man stumbled, I began ripping at the gun in his injured grip. This wasn't someone who was used to being attacked; he had money, and money paid for others to endure the brutality of the world.

Stunned, he released the gun—but he wasn't finished with me. Rushing forward, his full weight pushed me into the nearest wall. Air fled my lungs, my chest straining as I wheezed. With sparks in my eyes, I fumbled to hold the gun, his blood making it slick.

“You little bitch!” he screamed, his knee catching my side.

Moaning, I understood he was going to steal back the pistol. I was too out of it to hang on. In a moment of reaction, I did what I could—I threw it to the side. At least, this way, I could run when he bolted for it.

But Tully wasn't a cartoon bad guy. He made no move to go after the gun. Coiling his hand in my thick hair, he slammed the back of my skull into the wall. The whine in my eardrums was immense.

Dazed, I scratched at his face, cutting his cheek. He retaliated by throwing me to the floor. Then, just as fast, he ripped me back up. Scrabbling for his eyes was my last effort. Tully captured my wrists and pinned me against the wallpaper.

Panting heavily, he glared at me, our noses grinding. “You're dead, girl. After I drag you out of here, fuck you till you bleed, I'm going to cut you up and feed you to the fucking gators and—”

“No,” the low voice said beside us. “You won't be doing that.”

Wavering, I turned, focusing in disbelief on the sight in front of me. I didn't have the power to speak, so Tully did it for me. “Claudine?” he asked warily. “What are you doing?”

Holding the blood-soaked gun high, she kept it so steady on Tully that I would never have known she was a twitching heroin addict. “Let her go, Tully.”

He glanced at me, but didn't ease his hold. “Listen, my sweet girl,” he crooned at my sister. “Don't do anything stupid. You wouldn't want to make a mistake.”

The bold, brave sincerity that lived in my sister's stare was something I hadn't seen in far too long. I didn't want to hope, because hope had failed me before, but this... was this really happening?

Lowering her eyebrows, she said, “I already made one mistake. I won't do it again, believe me.” In her confident fingers, the trigger squeezed.

The explosion deafened me, but I was already woozy from lack of oxygen. Tully's head whipped back as the bullet slammed through his forehead, his body crumpling. Gasping for air, I slid to the floor, coughing while I clutched my chest.

Claudine ran to my side, crouching as she kept the gun on Tully. It was pointless; the man would never move again. “Are you alright?” she asked me, gripping my shoulders so she could study me.

Those eyes were the same ones that had laughed with me as we rode together.

Eyes that had consoled me when our parents fought.