Chapter 28 #2
My throat convulses, legs quivering. “Stop, Drake. Don’t do this. I’ll go to the police.”
He snickers. “Little Genevieve.” He yanks at my bustier, but the Houdini contraption is made to withstand tornados and it barely budges. “Like a dark-haired porcelain doll. I’m going to fuck you and break you. When I’m finished, you’ll be a docile, pretty pet, begging at my knee.”
Fear clouds my vision, making my movements jerky and unreliable.
I shake my head to clear it and feint a move to the side, then lurch in the opposite direction toward the door.
But it’s a stupid move with Drake’s heavy body above mine.
I make it an inch before I lose strength and collapse beneath him, panting.
He chuckles, trailing his mouth down my neck, licking and biting.
“Let me tell you a secret.” He nips the lobe of my ear, breaking the skin, stinging it with his tongue.
“No one is going to do anything with that form you filled out upstairs except shred it. They already have. They have my back and I have theirs. I know people in this town.” He says this with so much pride, I almost feel sorry for him, as if the only way he obtains strength is by knocking others down.
He can’t be right. There’s got to be someone with an ounce of morality in this place. But even if there is, they won’t help me down here, where no one can see what’s about to happen…
God, someone help me!
A strong, manicured hand clamps over my mouth, blocking my nose. “I said shut up.”
My throat burns. From yelling? So the screaming isn’t only in my head. The rush of it released all the air from my lungs, though, and Drake isn’t letting me catch my breath.
The room and its objects waver and fade. I’m dizzy, sick to my stomach…
Suddenly, the overwhelming weight lifts from on top of me. Air rasps through my chest. The circular fixture above my head comes into focus, and the sound of the casino can be heard…
I look down my body at an unfamiliar man standing in the doorway, wearing a yellow Sallee Construction shirt, a set of keys dangling from his hand.
The man glares at Drake. “I’ll be needing this room. For the electrical.”
“It can wait,” Drake grinds out from my side, one knee propped, his hand braced on the ground as if he rolled off me and froze. “Get out.”
The Sallee worker presses his lips together and shakes his head. “No can do, boss.” He opens the door wider.
Drake rises to his feet as someone passes, gawking at us. “You’ll be fired for this.” He jerks me up and my head spins with the abruptness. The arm he crushed is swollen, weak, throbbing with every heartbeat. “Come along, Genevieve.”
“Oh, she’ll be staying with me,” the worker says.
My gaze wavers toward him like I’m on a rocky boat.
“Excuse me?” Drake’s voice is tight, frigid.
“That’s my buddy’s girlfriend you have there. He wouldn’t want you touching her. If he saw what I just witnessed, you wouldn’t be breathing right now. I suggest you let her go.”
Drake thrusts me behind him like a dog fighting for a juicy steak. “You’re fired. Get out.”
“Sure.” The worker tosses the keys on the ground, his meaty hands flexing at his sides in a threatening manner. He’s a couple of inches taller than Drake and twice as wide. “Taking the girl with me, though.”
Drake’s breath hisses out low and angry. He releases me and storms out the door.
I’m shaking, my hand supporting my injured arm.
“Take a minute,” the Sallee worker says. “You can stay or go home, but I’m not leaving your side till you’re clear of the casino.” He pulls out his phone and types as if texting.
I slump to the floor and try to control the shaking. My head hurts. I can’t concentrate and the room is spinning. I lie down and close my eyes.
I sense the guy squat beside me. “You need a doctor?” He touches the inside of my wrist, then his hands fumble beneath my knees as if he’s going to lift me.
I sit up abruptly, which doesn’t help the spinning. “I can walk. Can you take me to my house?” I cough, my throat scratchy and sore. I’ll go to the hospital, because I’m not letting Drake get away with this and I want proof of his violence, but I need my best friend with me.
The Sallee worker follows me past a new waitress in the lounge. She’s pretty and fresh for her shift. The bartender looks away, but the waitress gapes.
I change in the basement while the Sallee worker waits for me outside the employee entrance. In my street clothes, no one pays attention to the girl with messy hair and mascara smudges who’s crossing the casino floor to the exit.
Inside the parking garage, the worker points to a beat-up gray truck an aisle down. “My truck’s over there.” I don’t even know his name, but he wouldn’t let Drake hurt me and he works for Lewis. He thinks I’m Lewis’s girlfriend.
We enter his truck and he turns the key. We pull out of the parking garage and the farther we get from the casino, the more my body’s shakes. Throat clogged, nose burning with unshed tears, I hold back the emotion threatening to erupt. I just want to get home.
My phone buzzes from inside my purse on my lap. I pull it out and glance at the screen. Three missed calls and a text message.
Lewis: Joe told me what happened. I’m on my way.
The voice messages are also from Lewis, the first a panicked-sounding call in which Lewis says he’s on his way to the casino and talks about contacting the police.
The second message he must have left while driving over.
In it he says he spoke to Joe and that he is meeting us at my house.
The third message is of the frantic where are you variety.
Lewis sounds upset and worried, and I can’t bring myself to care. I am numb.
When we pull up to my house, Lewis is talking to Cali at the front door. Cali sees us first and runs to the truck, Lewis a step behind her.
“Oh my God, Gen.” She opens the door and pulls me to her. I cry out. “You’re hurt?” She looks at my face, then down, as I instinctively turn away to protect my arm. “Shit,” she says. “It’s swollen and blue…and your throat. That fucker!”
My arm is horribly tender but I can move it, so I don’t think it’s broken.
Lewis rounds Cali and supports my waist, taking my weight. “I’m okay,” I rasp. He flinches, his eyes intense. My voice is rough from screaming and the pressure of Drake’s hand at my throat.
Lewis is always trying to carry my weight—the physical, the emotional. Is this why he kept his struggles with Mira and her gambling to himself? He won’t share his own burdens?
Lewis thanks Joe and helps me to the chalet. “Cali, can you grab a cold pack or a bag of ice? Frozen vegetables if you don’t have either?”
I sit on the couch and he tucks a pillow behind my head. He kneels beside me and turns over my arm, eyeing the bruise. He lifts my shirt as if to check me over, and I jerk it down. “I need to see where you’re hurt,” he says. His eyes widen, mouth pinching. “He didn’t—did he…?”
“No, my arm is the worst of it.” I lean back and close my eyes. Tears stream down my cheeks, no sound erupting from my battered throat.
Drake didn’t rape me, but he was going to.
Lewis presses his face into my neck, his breaths tense and choppy. He’s cupping my head, eyes blinking rapidly against my skin. “I wish I’d been there for you.” He looks up, something in his expression unhinged. “Promise me you won’t return.”
I believe the look in his eyes, the one that says he cares so much he’d do anything to make this better, but it’s not enough. I need more from him than a protector. “Don’t worry about me. You have other obligations. I’ll be fine.”
“Gen—” He runs stiff fingers through his hair and leans forward, his hands compressing the cushions on either side of my body. The gesture should intimidate, but the look in his eyes—caring and intent—negates the effect. It’s as if he wants me to see inside his soul. “I’m here right now.”
“But you won’t always be. There will be times when I need you and your commitment to someone else will prevent you from coming.”
The door opens and my mom walks in with a bag of groceries in her arms, a smile on her face. Behind her, Jaeger carries four more bags.
Mom took a plane to Tahoe and could have rented a car, but that would have made too much sense. Mooching rides off my roommate’s attractive boyfriend and me is more her speed. She may be in love with Fred, but she’s not blind.
Her smile dies as she looks from Cali to Lewis, her gaze finally landing on me. “Genevieve?” She drops the bag and kneels by the couch, nearly knocking Lewis over to reach me. “What happened?”
Lewis stands and turns, his back rising and falling on deep, controlled exhalations, as if he’s attempting to keep it together. Jaeger sets the groceries on the counter and wraps an arm around Cali. She hugs him and whispers in his ear. He glances at me, and his mouth tenses.
Jaeger intercepted Cali’s run-in with Drake and knows the gist of what happened to me in the suite. It’s safe to say he’s not Drake’s biggest fan.
I don’t know why I thought Drake would leave me alone if I only stayed away from him. He’s worse than I ever imagined. The things he said to me… what he tried to do…
From a few feet away, Lewis turns his gaze on me, and it’s so intense that for a moment I don’t hear my mom’s incessant questioning, which I’ve managed to ignore thus far. His eyes cut away and I watch helplessly as he strides to the front door.
A deep panic fills my chest. He wouldn’t…
I sit up and glance at Cali’s boyfriend. “Jaeger—” I stare wordlessly at Lewis.
Jaeger nods and catches Lewis by the shoulder, mumbling something in his ear. Lewis’s grip on the doorknob tightens, his shoulders rigid. He jerks from Jaeger’s hold, but Jaeger continues to talk in a quiet rumble.
Lewis flings the door open and stalks out. Jaeger searches Cali’s face. She nods and he follows Lewis.
“Genevieve, talk to me!” My mom squeezes my hand.
I close my eyes and tune out the world.