Chapter 39
The metal on the inside of the hangar wall was biting into her shoulder, but she was not going to sit in his boujee ass car or, heaven forbid, his airplane. She was scoping out exit points. There was only one. She would’ve palmed her forehead if she wasn’t trying to be discreet.
The look on her face couldn’t be hidden though. She was never really good at that part. If she didn’t like you, or she was angry, you knew it.
She watched as Max finished telling one of his toady henchmen something and sent them outside. He began stalking toward her but stopped about three feet from the disgusted look on her face.
“Sweetheart, you’re so much prettier when you smile. How about you wipe that look off your face before I do it for you, ok?” His tone was condescending and cruel.
She loathed him unlike any human she had ever known. She glared at him and her face twisted further. His hand lunged forward, clamping onto her neck. This was no gentle squeeze. He was strangling her. She clawed at his wrist and smacked his forearm, his face lowering to meet hers.
“Did you not hear me, sweetheart? I thought by now you’d understand that I am not a man who allows his woman to disrespect his authority.”
Blythe gasped, sucking in lungfuls of air when his hand suddenly loosened and dropped to his side. She reached up, rubbing her neck where bruises would undoubtedly show in the coming days.
“I am not your woman, Max.” She was still gasping for more air.
His body turned, head tilting to one side, an annoyed and sarcastic look displayed on his own face. “Oh, really? You’re not mine? Seems like you’re here, in my possession, about to fly home to Chicago with me. Sounds exactly like you’re mine, Blythe.”
Did he know about Justin? Or did he simply think she was living with Chris and the girls? Justin had told her he’d seen someone else’s tire tracks the day he’d found Bear outside…but she still wasn’t sure how to gamble this. If Max didn’t know about Justin, then he would find out soon enough. Justin would be out looking for her. She was never more sure of anything. If he already knew about him, she wondered how much. Had he been watching her every move, or had he simply dropped by to make sure she was where he thought she was?
“I belong to no one.” She decided to shoot her shot.
Max paused before a sadistic grin slid over his face. “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you not to lie, sweetheart?”
Shit.
“You mean that podunk cowboy you’ve been living with, you aren’t his? I just hope you haven’t gotten on your knees and played his whore when you refused to play mine.”
Her mouth dropped open, and the words were out before she could catch them. “I would rather play his whore every fucking day of my life than rot as your wife!”
Max chuckled and stared at the concrete floor, then slowly lifted his gaze to her. “You little slut. You refused to come to my bed when I would’ve given you the goddamn world—I should’ve known.” He stalked toward her, and when he reached her, his lips hovered a whisper over hers. “Well, then. If you want to be a dirty little whore, I’ll treat you like a dirty whore.”
His hands grabbed her waist, pulling her to him then ripping at her clothes. She fought him with every ounce of strength she could muster. She tried to throw her elbows and her knees. She even threw her head forward to try and hit some part of him, but he was too strong. Before she knew it, she was suspended in the air, still clawing at his arms. Her back hit the concrete, and she groaned in pain.
She kicked, slapped, and punched with her fists, trying to get him off. He had her pinned between his thighs as he sat on top of her legs. He unbuttoned her jeans and started to rip them down, using one hand to lift her shirt up to get a better hold. His fingers brushed her lower abdomen, and her palm shot down to cover there. She’d known about her pregnancy all of a day, and she already had the instinct to protect her child.
Max stopped pulling at her pants and narrowed his eyes at her hand, still resting over her belly. An evil smirk rose on his lips. “Oh, shit… Are you knocked up, sweetheart?”
She gritted her teeth and spat. He dodged, and it missed him. How could she have ever guessed that this was the disgusting human that hid under such a sophisticated and handsome exterior? Max ran his tongue through the slit of his lips, then dropped his voice to a low manic tone. “I see. What a treat for me… I guess I’ll brand you and your bastard baby today. Too bad your lover isn’t here. He could watch.”
A loud crack echoed through the building, and the two sliding doors at the front of the hangar started to open. Max was momentarily stunned. Blythe took the chance to buck her hips and topple him off sideways. She scrambled to stand, but Max was quicker. They were both on their feet when he pulled her back, his elbow hooked around her neck, his opposite arm around her middle.
As the door came fully open, she saw him. Justin moved quickly with long strides, a look of molten fury on his handsome face. He was strapped with a gun on his hip, hand on the grip of his weapon. If she didn’t know better, she would think he had specific training on how to perform a rescue mission. Maybe he had? After all, Chris was his mentor.
She watched intently as Justin approached and drew the gun from its holster. He aimed directly at Max’s head next to hers. Her body was his shield.
“Get your dirty mother fucking hands off my wife!”
Max tossed his head back with a morbidly sadistic laugh.
“She’s not your wife.”
Justin stopped mere feet in front of them, his jaw clenching, eyes burning. “Like hell she isn’t. She sleeps in my bed, screams my name when she comes on my cock, and she’s carrying my child. If that’s not a wife, I don’t know what is. Everything else is a technicality.”
Max tightened his hold.
Blythe’s eyes pleaded with Justin as she mouthed, I love you.
He must’ve found her bag. She could’ve sworn Max was foaming at the mouth as he gritted his next words through his teeth. “She. Is. Mine. And I’ll take care of the polluted little problem you planted inside of her once we get home.” Max started to move back toward the plane. Was the pilot still sleeping? If he was, he certainly wasn’t in the cockpit, or he had ear protection on.
Justin walked forward, keeping the same distance between them as they all moved. Blythe was shaking. At the same time, she knew Justin was going to get her out of there. She hoped he brought Chris for back up. Someone must have the two men outside—because there was no one trying to stop Justin from pointing a gun at their boss.
Justin opened his mouth to speak, his eyes never leaving her captor’s. “Oh, that’s right,” he drawled. “She never wanted to come to your bed. Is that why you’re here? Because you're a pathetic little bitch who has to try and rape a woman to give your needle dick some perverted action? You know how we fix that in Montana? Two to the chest, one to the head. Or I could save a bullet and aim the first one between your legs and the next one can blow your brains out. Whichever you prefer.”
Justin was fuming, but extremely controlled at the same time. Max, however, was losing whatever mind he had left. He turned his nose, slowly sniffing up Blythe’s cheek and into her hair.
“You really think you’re that good of a shot? With this pretty piece of candy in front of me? I don’t think you could do it. Too risky.”
Max’s hand moved down to Blythe’s lower abdomen, her jeans still unbuttoned there. He slipped the tips of his fingers down inside, evil on his face as he smirked at Justin.
“Maybe your lover will get to watch after all, sweetheart. We’ll just have to improvise.”
Justin growled and took a step closer.
“If you drop that hand an inch lower, I swear, I will put a fucking bullet in you.”
Max’s elbow was still around her neck, but it’d loosened a little. Blythe remembered learning once that if you used your full body weight and dropped to the ground, you could potentially break free from a hold like this.
Gathering her courage, she bent her knees and did it. His grip had relaxed enough, and she knew he wasn’t expecting it.
Her ass hit the floor, and she scrambled on all fours behind Justin.
Justin’s aim remained strong, pointed directly at Max’s forehead. “Looks like you lost your shield. Though, I could’ve taken you out just as easily before.”
Never taking his eyes off the schmuck in front of him, Justin took another step to the side, completely shielding Blythe. “Are you alright, sugar?”
“Yes, I’m fine now.” She turned her shoulders around to see Chris and two other men entering the building—now four guns pointed at Max.
She heard her uncle’s voice reverberate off the metal walls. “Are you the sick fuck who took my little girl?”
Max shifted, then started to run, getting only a few yards from the aircraft. Chris was quick, the first one to catch him. Max landed on his face, then all three men had their knees in his back. He cursed, spewing profanities and trying to break free. But within seconds, they had him handcuffed, standing on his feet, and dragged out of the hangar.