Playing Dirty

Parker and Ryker both started yelling at him, taunting and threatening, the bedsprings rattling above them, but all I could see was the glowing metal touching my hand …


I screamed again and tears streamed from my eyes. The pain was worse than before and I could smell my own flesh burning. I struggled to get away, but the guard held me and it was hurting so bad and I couldn’t take it …

“Parker!” I screamed.

The iron left my skin immediately and the guard let go of me. I collapsed onto the concrete floor and curled on my side. Cradling my hand to my chest, I tried to slow my breathing. I was hyperventilating and my vision was edged in black. If I blacked out, God only knew what Viktor would do to get me to awaken.

“Gentlemen, we have an answer,” Viktor said. “Congratulations, Parker. It seems the lady prefers you to the detective.”

I pried open my eyes, matted with sweat and tears, and watched Viktor approach Ryker.

“My apologies, Detective,” he said. “But it is preferable to know, wouldn’t you agree?”

Ryker didn’t reply.

Despair overwhelmed me. What was going to happen to us? Surely there was something I could do? My hands were free now, but the two guards still flanked me.

My gaze drifted to the hallway and where I thought perhaps an exit was located. Maybe if I could get away, make a break for it, I could get help.

“… women are worthless,” Viktor was saying. “She deserves to be punished, treated like the whore she is, for what she’s done to the two of you.” He turned and spoke to the guards. “She’s a whore. Treat her as such.”

Understanding dawned just as the two men looked down at me, and suddenly I was out of time for planning.

Panic made adrenaline surge through my veins and I scrambled backward and onto my feet. Then I was running.

One of them growled something in Russian, but I could hear both of them coming after me. Behind that, I heard Viktor’s laughter.

I ran as if the hounds of hell were after me, down an endless hallway, all while praying I was heading for an exit.

A door blocked my path and my heart leapt. I slammed into the crossbar and shoved it open … right into an identical warehouse from the one I’d just escaped from.

“Gotcha!”

Hands locked around my arms and I screamed bloody murder as they pulled me back into the dark hallway. The door slammed shut in front of me.

I began fighting in earnest, but one session of self-defense wasn’t enough to free myself from two well-trained men who each had a hundred pounds or more on me. In moments, they had me on my back on the floor. One had my arms pinned over my head, the other forced my legs apart and knelt between them.

“Hold her,” the one kneeling said.

The guy on top of me started unfastening his pants. I couldn’t free my arms; he was too strong. But my legs were free.

I kicked out and my foot caught him in the chest, but did nothing. I remembered what Parker had said about getting them on the chin, that even the biggest guy would go down, and changed my aim. But he pushed closer, using his chest to pin mine down, and I couldn’t get my legs in between us.

I was screaming at them, yelling obscenities and telling them to get off me. The guy on top swung his fist at my face, connecting near my temple. Pain exploded in my eye and head. Dizziness was a cloudy fog and my screaming was cut off as I struggled to stay awake.

Maybe you don’t want to be awake for this, I thought. It would probably be better to be unconscious. It would be easy. My brain felt weird, my limbs heavy. Oblivion beckoned.

I felt him tugging at the fastening to my jeans and I moaned, trying to move away. Then he was pulling them down over my hips—

Suddenly I was free, the pressure on my chest, hips, and wrist gone. I opened my eyes with effort. Everything was blurry, but I saw a man standing over me. He bent down toward me and I cringed away with a sharp cry of fear.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s me. You’re okay.”

“Parker?” I stared at him in disbelief, blinking to clear my vision. “How—Where’s Ryker?”

“I’m here.”

I swung my gaze to my left and sure enough, Ryker was crouching next to me.

“Hold on to me, babe,” he said, putting his arms underneath mine and lifting me. I clung to him, resting my head against his chest.

I felt Parker pull my clothes back up, his hands sliding around my waist to fasten my jeans.

“Here, let me take her,” Parker said. “You can barely stand yourself.”

That made me sit up. “You’re not okay,” I said to Ryker. “He hurt you.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, but made no further comment as he handed me over to Parker, who stood, lifting me in his arms.

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