Chapter Ten #4
I'd felt the force of those boots in my stomach once or twice. He’d told me that he rescued me. And being young, vulnerable and lonely, I'd fallen hard, not seeing the red flags until it was too late.
“I was sorry to hear about your brother’s death,” he muttered, his tone changing.
What the fuck? The sudden change in topic fried my brain and I stammered, not able to think of a coherent reply. How dare he pretend to feel sympathy?
“It was partially your fault!” I snapped, the fear burning into anger.
When we'd separated, I'd been ready to cut ties and live independently, moving in with my brother to gain a bit of freedom. Except, Brandon's stalking drove my brother over the edge. He grew paranoid and had even taken a knife to hunt for Brandon, who had thrown a brick through our window.
Shrugging, Brandon scoffed. “I can't see how.”
“Seriously?” My ire scorched my insides and I stepped forward, emboldened by the fucking cheek of him.
“You would turn up, every single night, and stand outside, either staring or throwing something at the house.
The police wouldn't help because you'd arrive at different times of the night and didn't actually hurt us. Except, you had, hadn't you?”
“You were a naughty fucking girl when we were together.” He rubbed a hand over the balaclava on his head. “You deserved to be punished.”
“You're a fucking narcissist,” I spat back, “obsessed and psychotic. You love-bombed me perfectly, even introducing me to BDSM before the beatings became real and the abuse became too much to bear.”
A chuckle slipped from under the balaclava and it took all my strength not to rush at him. I'd tried in the past and ended up in the emergency room.
“Our catch up is lovely and all that...” He took a step closer. “…but I'm here for one thing.”
Grabbing hold of his crotch, he squeezed himself. I squealed and backtracked, going around the desk until I reached the glass window again. I'd been petrified when he'd turned up at my bookstore, when there was no one around, but at least there was an audience here.
“Don't get too excited about them.” He pointed at the window with his knife. “It's one way glass. They're just looking at the reflection of their own faces.”
My stomach churned as I went closer and knocked on the window by the nearest person. Fuck, they didn't even look in my direction. Come to think of it, none of them were looking towards the building. If it was a huge window, showing this room, there would've at least been some curious glances. Fuck.
My phone beeped and I froze, not even daring to turn my head towards him. If I was lucky, he wouldn't have heard it…
“You've got your fucking phone?” His voice was gruff as I turned, ready to run.
I didn't have time. He surged for me, gripping my arm as I yelped, trying to wrench away. Spinning me, he pinned me against the glass wall. I cowered away from his strength, which had always made me weak.
Holding my arms by my sides, he pressed his whole body into me. I tried to shift my hips, to dislodge the bulge of his cock where it pressed into my stomach.
“Don't fight it.” He brought his head down to my ear. “I know you like it rough.”
“I hate you,” I bit through my teeth.
Leaning my head forward, I bit down hard on the nearest part of his body, which happened to be his pec.
He howled and raised a hand, crashing it down onto the side of my face. I gasped in a breath and opened my mouth, ready to scream. Why hadn't I screamed before? The sound left my throat, just as he released me, jerking away violently.
Moth's helmet came into view as he threw Brandon to the floor before gripping his shirt and punching him around the head. Brandon tried to fight Moth by throwing his fists, grunting when he was knocked back several times. I caught movement by Moth’s side as Brandon managed to get his arm up.
“Moth!” I shouted, moving forward to warn him about the glint of metal.
It was too late.
Moth grunted as Brandon haphazardly shoved the knife near Moth's ankle. He'd obviously got him, but Moth didn't stop, instead hitting him so hard, Brandon went limp.
“Stop!” I tried to get hold of Moth's arm, gasping when he caught my hand.
He froze when he realized that we'd made contact, looking over his shoulder in my direction.
“You've knocked him out.” My breath was hard and fast. “Let's just go. We can call the cops.”
Moth instantly dropped Brandon and turned, grabbing my arm and hauling me away from my ex.
“You need to call the police later, when I'm gone.” Moth reached for the door, looking over his shoulder to check Brandon.
Brandon was out cold, his balaclava-clad head rolled to the side. Moth opened the door and shoved me out, closing it behind him. I headed towards the exit, ducking around people until Moth gripped my elbow and walked fast, propelling me along with him.
“Why are we running?” I huffed, my legs taking two strides to his one.
“Firstly, in case he wakes up.” Moth patted the top of his helmet, as if he were afraid he no longer had it on. “Secondly, the building may have cameras. Security might look for us.”
Good point, although I would want them to show the footage to the cops. Once we were safe.
There was a hotel, just a few yards away. Moth headed towards the entrance, looking over his shoulder to check before we tumbled through the automatic doors and into the foyer.
There were a few people at the desk, blocking the view of the receptionists. We didn't have time to ask for a room, much less wait for them to register us on the computer. Moth pointed towards the toilet sign and marched us in that direction.
I had no idea of his plan. Maybe he was trying to blend in, as if we were staying there and wanted to use the restrooms. His helmet should've raised suspicion, but with a convention going on next door, the staff were probably used to it.
My whole body shook as we reached the small hallway where the restrooms were. Instead of going inside, Moth guided us further along, to where there was a staff only door. Trying it, he smiled when it clicked open and we rushed inside.
It was a cleaning closet, which couldn't have been more cliché. At least, hopefully, Brandon wouldn't find us before the cops arrived.
“We just have to wait it out.” Moth stood in front of the door, his helmet still on.
He’d just rescued me, just like a fucking knight in shining leather. In fact, he must’ve been so hot under the leather gear. Sweat was probably dripping–
No, it wasn’t the time to think of that.
“We should call the cops.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Just… trust me.”
Nodding, I panted and turned as much as I could in the small area. The room had a bare wall one side and shelves lining the other. There wasn't much else, not even a window.
Moth reached out, knocking my tit with his elbow as he fiddled for the light switch. I got hold of his arm and stopped him. The adrenaline pumped through my veins, the fear sending my senses on high alert.
“Don't,” I muttered “it's better in the dark. I… I feel so…”
Running a hand over the leather on his shoulder, I gasped when he caught my fingers, squeezing tight.
“Are you serious?” his voice was gruff as he switched the light on. Luckily, it was extremely dull. “You're turned on right now? Despite what he just tried to do?”
Shaking my head, I breathed in and out jaggedly as I looked at his helmet. “I'm confused and my body is on fire and… no, I don't know. I'm fucked up. Totally fucked up.”
He moved towards me, pressing me into the wall with his frame. “Aren't we all?”
His hands landed on my face, cupping my jaw before he ran them down my neck and over my shoulders. Wait, what was he doing?
“You want this.” Still moving, his hands slipped down my chest, over the mounds of my tits, where they hovered and squeezed, just for a moment.
I froze. My body zinged in anticipation despite the hatred we felt for one another. What was he doing? He knew I was confused; would he really do anything?