Chapter 18
eighteen
Harper
COLD HANDS.
Pain seared over the side of my face as it collided with brick, a cold wall at my front and a slightly warmer one at my back, trapping me there. A hand clamped over my mouth before I could make a sound.
I’d been dragged from the footpath into the alley. A mugging? Would he take my wallet and be done with me? I drew short, rushed breaths through my nose.
“Haar-py.” My nickname in a singsong voice, the wrong kind of familiar.
Fuck.
My hands pushed at the wall in a frantic burst of strength. Enough to make Tristan stumble backward, but not enough to get him off me. He came back with more force. I grunted as he crushed me back against the brick.
“You and that bastard got me banned from The Veil,” he whispered in my ear.
I tried to push against the wall again, but he was ready for it this time, pressing against me until my chest couldn’t expand enough to breathe.
“That’s really no way to thank me for getting you in, is it?”
I tried to scream at him, but the words remained trapped behind his palm.
“I’ve tried to be nice to you for Logan’s sake, and look at how you repay me.”
My hand grasped at his wrist to pry it away, my nails digging into the thick fabric of his coat, seeking skin. When I couldn’t find it, I clawed at his fingers instead.
He hissed, gripping tighter until my jaw ached.
“And as if that wasn’t bad enough, that bastard broke my fucking nose. Now, I’m not an idiot. I know I don’t stand a chance at fighting him. You, however?” He chuckled and bile rose up my throat. “Too easy.”
Alarm bells rang in my mind as Tristan’s hand moved from my back down to my hip. Then it slithered between me and the wall until his fingers cupped me through my pants and a whole new wave of panic erupted inside me.
I brought my foot down on his with as much force as the limited space allowed.
“Fuck!” he grunted. His hand released my mouth to grip my hair and use the hold to bash my head against the brick. White hot pain radiated from my temple as my ears rang.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I managed to groan.
“Oh, I’m going to do more than that,” he seethed in my ear before biting it.
Nausea and humiliation combined like acid in my stomach.
Tristan’s fingers tugged at the front of my pants.
I tried again to kick him. It landed, not as hard as the last one.
He grunted in my ear. “Enough, or I’ll make it worse.”
The button popped open.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I swung my arm back blindly. The howl he let out told me I’d hit his busted nose. He stumbled back, just enough for me to pull to the side, going for escape rather than a fight.
I made it a few steps before he caught the collar of my shirt, yanking on it hard enough to pull me back into him. His arms circled my waist and then my feet were lifting off the ground.
“Let go of me!” I yelled as loud as I could.
“Scream if you want to. There are only businesses around here, and they’re all closed. No one is going to hear you.”
“I’m going to fucking end you,” I seethed, kicking the heel of my foot into his shin.
His body twisted. His arms released me with too much force. I cried out as my shoulder and hip slammed into the ground.
Pain radiated over my entire right side. I had no time to feel it, though. Not if I was going to escape.
I rolled onto my hands to push myself up.
Tristan’s foot collided with my side.
My side and back scraped against the asphalt. My lungs burned as my diaphragm spasmed. I couldn’t breathe.
“You’re making this so much harder than it needs to be,” Tristan panted. Blood streamed from his nose, over his lips and chin, before he wiped it on the back of his hand. He looked unhinged. Deranged. Manic.
I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, my own body betraying me.
He chuckled. “That all you had?” He pulled off his coat. Tossed it to the side. “You did better than I thought, though.”
Fingers worked his belt open, and I looked frantically around me for something, anything, I could use as a weapon.
There was a dumpster further down the alley.
Please. Please let there be something.
I groaned as I rolled over, my chest easing just enough for me to suck in a little air. Not enough. I dragged myself toward it as Tristan laughed behind me.
“Where are you hoping to go, Harpy?”
Don’t call me that.
“Gonna fight me with some garbage?” he teased. “Go on, then. See what you can find. The more you struggle, the better it’ll be for me.”
There was a glass bottle on the ground next to the dumpster. Tristan let me drag myself until it was just within reach before he kicked it away. Glass rattled against asphalt, echoing off the brick walls.
Fuck.
“Good try, though,” he mocked. “Shall we get on with it?”
“Don’t touch me,” I rasped.
“Like this?” Tristan knelt on the ground behind me, cold hands yanking my hips back into him until I felt his hard dick through the fabric of my pants.
I threw an elbow back, and he caught it. “Scrappy thing, aren’t you? Much more of a fighter than your brother was.”
The ice in my blood heated, his words igniting something far too big to fit inside me. It demanded destruction. “What?”
“You want me to tell you?” I could hear the grin in his voice. He twisted my arm until fire seared down from my shoulder. “How much Logan cried and begged me to stop? He was even more pathetic than you are. But he was so small and tight. Just my type. You aren’t as small, but you’ll do.”
“You fucking bast—” My insult morphed into a scream as he twisted my arm further, used it to push my face down into the ground.
My whole body froze and burned simultaneously as he tugged at my pants.
Then I saw it.
Beneath the dumpster, something gleamed. As if trying to get my attention.
Cold air met my skin as fabric was pulled down to my thighs.
Using every ounce of strength I had left, I spun. Pain exploded in my shoulder, but I managed to knock him off me and reach my other arm underneath the dumpster, my fingers brushing something metal.
“You think that’ll stop me?” Tristan recovered, grabbing at my legs to drag me back to him. Gravel scraped my spine, but I let him. Waiting until he was over me again. Then I swung as hard as I could.
It was a metal bike pedal. Rusted and broken.
It made a wet cracking sound as it collided with Tristan’s temple.
I hit him again. Again. His body fell half over mine, and even then I kept hitting him until the pedal was red with more than just rust.
He was still. Quiet.
Adrenaline let me drag myself out from under him with one arm.
I yanked my pants back into place and scurried back until my back hit the wall.
It was silent. The silence was loud.