Searching for Beautiful(107)
“I think you can,” he drawled. Vincent tensed. Knew he had a good shot at taking him. “See, your mom ran out of money. Ran out of favors. So tonight, she called in her last chip.”
His mother smiled so sickly and sweetly he thought he’d vomit. “Sorry, baby. Gotta help me. Gotta help.”
He clenched his fists and fought for breath. He might have to run without his stash. Fuck. “If you think I’m some kinda whore like her, you’re wrong. You touch me and I’ll kill you.”
Scott grinned. “Ever try it? Maybe it’s not so bad. Tell you what, do it this one time for me and we’ll call it even. I won’t bother you or your mother again.”
He took a step back but refused to glance at the door. Too close. He’d have to run. His hand slid behind his back, slipped out the knife, and clenched it in his hand. He couldn’t miss. There was too much at stake. “Didn’t know you were a homo, pimp,” he sneered, trying to distract him. “Whatsa matter? Your dick not big enough for a woman?”
Scott kept grinning and began walking toward him. “We can do this hard or real easy. I’ve given you time. Space. Let you steal money from me when you thought I wasn’t looking. But now it’s time to pay up.”
Vincent swallowed past the nausea and fear overtaking him, lifted the knife, and with a perfect arc threw it in the air.
The blade hit its target, piercing the man’s upper chest.
Vincent didn’t wait to see the damage. He turned and raced for the only exit, knowing if he didn’t get there he wouldn’t have another chance.
Scott’s howl reached his ears. Scrambling feet. The knob turned, slid, twisted. Clean air rushed over him. One sneaker hit the ground, found purchase, and he began to run.
Rough hands dragged him back. Light exploded as something smashed against his head, and he fought for consciousness, the swirl and mix of male voices and shouts mingling in the air. His mind screamed one word the entire time he desperately tried to break away, the one word that would be repeated in his nightmares for years after the horrid night.
No no no no no no . . .
Two men tossed him into his room onto the bed. He groaned and twisted, but they were much bigger than Scott, and one guarded the door while the first dragged him off the mattress and threw him to his knees. He gagged, ready to vomit, his palms plastered to the battered wooden floor.
“Gonna teach you some manners. Also gonna teach you how to make some money.”
Scott walked over, jerking his head up by his hair. He grinned with an evil purpose, blood dripping from the shallow wound near his shoulder. “You’ll pay for that one. I’m gonna enjoy you working off your mama’s debt.”
No. No no no no no . . .
The first man laughed and began unbuckling his pants.
No no no no no no . . .
And then the nightmare began.
twenty-three
GEN WALKED OUT of Cafe Xpressions with a bag of biscotti and big plans for that night. She planned to make scampi with pasta, and then work off the calories by engaging in her new fave sport.
Sex. With Wolfe.
She hummed under her breath, swinging the bag and soaking in the sun.
“Genevieve?”
The familiar voice popped her bubble, and she felt her happiness slowly leak away as she stared at David. A tiny shiver of fear trickled down her spine, though they were in broad daylight. Pressing her lips together, she turned to walk away but he said her name again with an odd urgency.
“Please give me a minute. I know I don’t deserve it. We can talk right out here in front of witnesses. Please.”
She stiffened but turned around. He must have come straight from his shift, since he still wore his scrubs. His burnished hair looked mussed, but glinted like a halo in the sun. Tiny lines bracketed his mouth and eyes, giving him an exhausted look she knew too well. A pang deep inside exploded through her. She missed the hospital. Missed the work. Missed feeling a part of the bigger picture, sacrificing her time to save lives. She fought to keep the longing off her face in case he misread her emotion.
“What do you want?”
“First? To apologize. My actions make me sick. I lost it, was so crazed with jealousy I wanted to hurt you.”
“Sorry. I can’t forgive you. You took away anything good we once had when you laid your hands on me with violence.”
He nodded, his jaw clenched with tension. “Understood. I still had to say it out loud. I made arrangements for your stuff to be delivered this weekend, if that’s okay.”
She raised an eyebrow. Max had been working on it, but things stalled when David’s lawyer threatened to drag her to court, declaring that her affair with Wolfe entitled her to nothing. “I don’t want any personal deliveries.”