Psychos (Depraved Sinners 1) - Page 81
What the fuck was Roman thinking allowing him to walk away? That’s not how the game is supposed to work. This should have already been dealt with.
I scramble away from him, knowing damn well that I won’t be able to get up on my feet and away from him by the time he reaches down to end my life. I’m well and truly fucked.
“Well, well, this certainly is a nice surprise,” the asshole says, a sick grin twisting across his face as he recognizes me from the party. “I’m going to enjoy this.”
He reaches down and I let out an ear-shattering scream in the hopes that the brothers will somehow come through for me, but I haven’t got a chance in hell. I put myself in this situation and they’re not exactly the heroes whose sole dreams are to swoop in and save the damsel in distress.
His big hand curls around my wrist and he drags me back across the road, pulling me closer and closer to the big warehouse and into its dim lighting. “Hey boys,” the guy hollers through his piece of shit warehouse. “The DeAngelis brothers left us a toy to play with.”
Oh, fuck no.
“LET GO OF ME,” I scream, tears stinging my eyes as he drags me past the random cars and into the center of the room. The guy laughs as he releases me on the ground of the filthy warehouse, and I watch in horror as he peels off his dirty jacket.
The place is a fucking mess. The same pills from the party are scattered all over the warehouse with white powder staining every available surface. There are empty beer bottles filled to the brim with cigarette butts and old pizza boxes strewn across the dirty floor. It makes me sick just being in it, but that’s the least of my problems.
He looks down at me as men appear from the shadows, creeping in to get a front row seat to the main performance of the night. He crouches down, looking at me like a piece of meat that he’s about to destroy. “Those sorry fuckers have finally screwed with the wrong guy,” he spits, the scowl across his face having absolutely nothing on Roman’s signature one. “They think they can disrespect me? I’ll fucking destroy them for what they did, but not before I make you wish that you were never born. You’re a fucking dead bitch. I’m gonna take it slow and you’re going to feel it all, every slice of the blade, every tear of your skin. Your screams are going to echo through my warehouse for months, but not before I destroy your fucking soul first.”
“Too late, asshole,” I spit back at him, completely surrounded by his vile men. “You can’t kill something that’s already dead.”
He laughs, standing as he reaches for his belt buckle. “Watch me.”
Fuck. The one time I actually need the brothers, they’re nowhere to be seen. Maybe this is their version of punishment for trying to slip away into the night. Fuck them and their twisted teaching moments.
The guy tears his belt straight out of its loopholes as he nods toward his henchmen. Two of them drop down on either side of me, holding me down as their boss rolls his tongue over his lips. I cry out as their fingers dig into my skin, their filthy body odor overwhelming my senses.
Boss man reaches for me, grabbing the waistband of my sweatpants as my heart races, the fear quickly becoming too much. It’s one thing to let Levi and Marcus take me any way they want, but this is different on so many levels. I won’t make it through this. I won’t survive if they touch me. I’m not strong enough.
My sweatpants are torn right off my legs and fat tears stream down my face as I scream out for help, but I saw the area as we were driving in. This industrial estate is as abandoned as they come. That’s probably the reason they chose here as their place of operation. They get away with all kinds of shit and I’m probably just one in a very long line of victims.
Desperate to try and save myself, I bring my knee up, slamming it right into the stab wound I’d given him last night. He flies back onto his hands as he lets out a pained cry. Rage settles over his face, and I fear that all I’ve done is anger the beast.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH,” he roars, righting himself just moments before his heavy fist comes down over my face, splitting the fragile skin of my cheek as my head rebounds off the dirty concrete floor.
My vision spins and I crave the sweet peace of death, but I know it won’t come, he won’t let that happen until he’s completely destroyed me first.
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