Chapter 16
BELL
Thug one and thug two have me pinned to the back of the couch as Snake looms over me, his top lip curling like I’m the one that disgusts him.
“I told you to have the drink. It was a simple fucking request. Why do you have to make this so difficult?”
His spittle slaps against my cheek, and I fight the urge to snap at him like a rabid dog. I may be in a bit of a predicament right now, but I don’t need him knowing that side of me just yet.
I might kill people for the love of it, but the only skills I’ve needed up until now were seduction and taking them by surprise.
I’m not trained to fight. I can scrap like any chick, but I’m no match for two hulking bouncers and a feral gang leader.
“What are you doing?” I cry out, hoping I sound scared, and well, in all honesty, I kinda am. “I need to pee so we can fuck. Isn’t that why I’m here?”
“Drink first, then you can pee and I’ll fuck you unconscious.”
Shit. That’s exactly what I like, but for the first time, I don’t want it. Not with him. Not with anyone but…
Shit.
Fucking hell, Kit. What have you done to me?
“I thought you were cool,” I whimper, trying a different angle. “We are here to party. There’s no need to manhandle me. I’ll be your sex slave for the night.”
Snake and the two bouncers chuckle like I just told a fucking joke, all of them looking down at me as the dude on my right side digs his fingers into my arm bruisingly as he holds me in place.
“I don’t need you to be my sex slave,” Snake sneers, leaning so close that his hot foul breath mingles with mine. “I have plenty of those. Now stop fucking around and drink this or I’ll force it down your throat.”
My heart begins to thunder in my chest at the thought of being drugged. I can’t let him do that to me. I need to end this somehow.
Nine hundred and twenty days.
“Okay,” I snap. “I’ll drink your damn drink, but you’d better give me the best orgasm for treating me like this.”
God, could I sound any more bimboish?
Snake’s eyes narrow before he nods to his bouncer buddies, and they release their hold.
“You say you want to party, but you won’t do coke with me or have a drink. Seems a little off to me,” he snaps, and I shrug, fluttering my lashes as he holds the glass out again.
“I’m just pacing myself.” I smile up at him even though I want to dick punch him.
Hey, now there’s an idea.
I accept the glass from him, and he takes a step back, finally giving me space.
With his arms crossed over his chest, he stares down at me, waiting, and I quickly contemplate my next move.
Dumb and Dumber have backed off, but they are still lingering behind me, too close for comfort. If I try to run, they’ll be on me before I even lurch up off this shitty couch.
My eyes land on my purse laying forgotten on the floor just outside the powder room. My phone is in there, plus a knife, but I have two others concealed in my boots.
“I’m sick of fucking waiting. Drink the fucking drink!” Snake bellows, making me flinch.
I roll my eyes and lift the glass to my lips, the scent of whiskey teasing my taste buds.
Shit, what I’d give to feel that burn. To let the alcohol relax me.
Nine hundred and twenty days.
With my eyes trained on Snake, I tip the glass against my lips, knowing I have two options here.
The first is I drink it. Throw my sobriety out the window to protect myself, all while putting myself in more danger, because once the drugs kick in, I know I’ll be useless.
The second is tossing the drink and trying to make a run for it, knowing they’ll likely catch me and drug me, anyway.
The first option is the most obvious, but the problem with that is I’m a fighter, and no one dictates my sobriety other than me. So if I’m going down, then I’m going down swinging.
Without second guessing myself, I hurl the glass at Snake’s head and leap off the couch, hearing it clunk against his head before smashing to the floor.
“Get her!”
The bouncers shout as they come for me. I make it five steps before someone slams into my back, sending us crashing to the floor.
The weight of one of the thugs crushes me, and I try to squirm, reaching for my purse that’s only a few short inches away, but shit, those inches feel like miles.
“You fucking whore!” Snake yells, shoving the thug off me before slamming his foot into my ribs. “I knew you were up to something! Are you a fucking cop?!”
I wheeze out a strangled whimper as my winded lungs fight for air, and Snake flips me over on my back as he and his bouncers loom over me.
“You didn’t just start teasing me randomly. You fucking sought me out. Who are you and what do you want?!”
I part my lips to speak, but I’m still struggling for air, so I lift my hand and uncurl my middle finger, flipping him off.
He snarls before his foot comes down on my head, pain bursting through my skull as my vision wavers.
“Cunts like you deserve everything you fucking get,” he hisses before glaring at his thug buddies. “Fucking hold her in place.”
My head is dazed and fuzzy, feeling heavy as it lolls to the side to see my purse so close.
Kit… I’m sorry.
For some stupid reason, I think I have the power to send him that message telepathically, but I hope he knows I died trying. I died fighting for his little girl.
Hands and knees hold me down onto the grotty brown carpet, and I try to fight, but my limbs are just as heavy as my head.
Shit. Am I even still alive?
Snake appears over me, kneeling down with something in his hands.
“All the women beg. First it’s, no don’t drug me, and then it’s please give me more.
You’re all the fucking same, only good for a warm hole to fuck and a mouth to abuse.
” He nods to one of the brutes, and the next thing I know, my lips are being pried open by fat calloused fingers before Snake holds up the bottle of whiskey and starts pouring it into my mouth.
Tears spring from my eyes as I fight to keep my throat closed, but the second someone pinches my nose, I know it’s useless.
Since I’m so good at breath play, I’m able to hold out longer than they must be used to, but Snake gets impatient, punching my gut, and I instantly start choking as the burn of the whiskey breaches my throat and goes down.
“No!” I cry as I hack, while the three of them fucking laugh. “Please stop! I’m sober.”
I choke on another cough as the three men stop laughing.
“Really?” Snake asks in surprise. “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”
If I thought he was going to be kind or understanding, then I’m dead fucking wrong, because with another nod, my arm stings with the prick of a needle, and I gasp, spotting the reddish contents disappear into my arm as Snake laughs.
“There we go,” he pat-slaps my face. “No longer sober. Now you don’t have to keep fighting it.”
Fuck.
No, no, no.
Nine hundred and twenty days wasted.
NO!
I struggle and fight against them, but they keep me in place, and I’m well aware they are doing it on purpose to let the drugs and alcohol take effect.
It was reddish in colour, so not something I recognise.
They talk amongst each other for a minute even while the two thugs hold me down, and a heavy rush starts to wash over me, making me feel so fucking good, but not enough that I don’t feel the weight of what’s just happened.
I cried from fear and panic earlier today, but now, as my silent tears fall, I cry because I’m absolutely gutted.
I’d worked so hard to get clean and stay clean. I may have picked up other unhealthy habits in place of my substance addictions, but in my defence, the people I slaughtered were all bad people. Paedophiles. Rapists. Women killers.
Serial killing bad people is less selfish than spending every waking moment seeking out my next hit of drugs.
The rush finally hits hard, and the bouncers release me, leaving me on the floor.
My eyes drag to my purse nearby, but as I reach for it, rough hands pick me up as Snake issues an order.
“Lock her up with the other one and keep checking on her. Any sign that the sedative is wearing off, start shooting her up with a Spaceball. If she’s an addict, she’s gonna need more than the typical bitch we steal off the streets.”
I try to open my eyes as the lightweight of bliss sends me soaring, and I don’t even think I’ll make it to where they intend to lock me up, as something close to heavenly death grips me, and everything goes black.