He let go of me suddenly, and I stepped back in surprise. Even with all the rage roaring inside of me, and even though he was staring daggers into my face, I couldn’t look past his beauty. For a flash of a second, I saw a pained look on his face, and I watched it immediately hide away into the coldness that had become Jaxon.
“Get in the car,” he said flatly.
“No.”
“Sara, this town isn’t the same anymore. There are really fucked up people, and I can’t have you get to the motel in this weather alone. Do you understand?”
“I’ll catch the bus, just go away.”
“No. I’m not going anywhere. Get in the fucking car now, and I won’t say a word to you. I promise.” He was looking me in the eyes as he spoke with the rain sliding down his face, soaking every part of his body. I knew he was telling the truth. I also knew he wouldn’t quit until I did what he wanted.
I walked over, opened the door and slid in. My instincts told me it was the wrong thing to do even though he was doing it for the right reasons, but I loved the guy. Even if he was different. I let out a few tears, knowing they would be hidden by the wetness of the falling rain that had cascaded on me from head to toe and left me looking like a walking puddle. I watched him slowly make his way to the driver’s seat. When he slid in, he didn’t look at me once. We were both breathing hard, unspoken thoughts thick in the air, and an intense anger that would make it impossible to speak cordially if we tried.
He drove the entire way to the motel honouring his promise, and I hated myself for already missing the sound of his voice.
Sixteen
He had the heater in the car on all the way back, but it made little difference. My bones felt heavy and stiff from the cold. When he parked in front of the motel, I took a moment to rest each hand on the vents to soak up every bit of heat I could before having to wade back out there, even though it’d only be for a minute or so. He patiently waited without casting me a glance. Then I opened the door and hurried out, running through the rain and to the room. I had the key in my hand when I got to the door, and risked a glance back at the parking lot where Jaxon was now pulling out.
I entered the room and shut it before hurrying to my bed and collapsing. Shaking wildly from the cold and the adrenaline coursing through me, I bundled myself up in the covers and hid my face under them. It was totally the dumbest thing to do because I was now soaking the sheets, but I didn’t care.
A loud knock startled me. Wondering what Jaxon could possibly want, I reluctantly pushed the covers off of me and walked over. I unlocked the door and opened it an inch when a heavy weight shoved it back. I jumped back in surprise, heart in my throat, as the bearded man from next door hurried inside. I opened my mouth to scream but his hand went around my neck, squeezing tightly, and then shoved my back into the nearby wall.
He was drenched from the rain, so close to me his beard was dripping water on to my chest. With dilated brown eyes, and smelling of alcohol in his trench coat and heavy jeans, he pushed his whole body into me.
“Scream and I cut you,” he threatened, in a rough voice. When I saw the blade of a knife in his other hand nearing my neck, I went limp with fear. I could hardly breathe much less scream with his hand buried against my throat.
Tears fell from my eyes, and the lack of breathing along with the tightness against my vocal cords had my head feeling light and dizzy.
“Jaxon Barlow dropped you off, didn’t he?” he spoke. I shuddered when the blade skimmed my jaw line. “I saw him. You’re just another one of his sluts, aren’t you?” He loosened his hold against my throat, but held the knife firmly against my cheek now.
“I don’t… I don’t…” Fuck, I was stammering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. He-he-he…”
“You whoring for him?”
“No!”
“Lying slut.”
“I’m-I’m not lying. I’m-I’m…”
His hand left my throat and skimmed down my chest. He unbuttoned the jacket and yanked it down until it freely fell to the floor. When he looked heatedly down my body, I knew exactly what he wanted. With the knife against me, and the clear hopelessness in fighting against a man who was twice my size, I could do nothing but cry and pray I’d make it out alive at the least. Judging by his dilated eyes and the stench of alcohol, he was both drunk and high as a kite, but he was still sure on his feet.
He took a step back and motioned to the bed. “Get on there. I’ll show that fucker I can fuck what I want… You get on there now…” He was mumbling all kinds of things that didn’t make any sense. I peeked at the door of my room – it was still opened - but he was standing in the way. Quivering, I somehow made my way to the bed, looking around as I went for any kind of weapon I could use. There was nothing.
“I’ll fucking show him… Like I can show everyone else. Fucking Finley and the fucking Scorpians and Jackals can kiss my ass, those fucking… Get on the bed, on all fours, slut.”
“Please,” I begged, but he shoved me forward until my knees hit the bed and I fell over, stomach flat on the mattress and my legs dangling out.
“All fours now.” I couldn’t comply, and it wasn’t because I didn’t want to, it was because my body was too paralysed to. He grabbed me by the collar of my sweater and tugged me forward until my legs were completely on the mattress. “All fours now or I’ll cut your throat.” There was a deadly look about him that had me believing every word he was saying. He knew too well what he was doing, like he’d done it before.
I buried my face into my hands as I struggled on my knees, elbows propped like deadweight on the mattress. With my eyes tightly shut, I heard the sounds of his buttons going undone, and the cold breeze through the opened door. I heard him back away from the bed, and then the sound of the door slamming shut.
A few heavy steps towards the bed, and another cold breeze flooded in. Only the door was closed. Wasn’t it? I shakily opened my eyes and looked over my shoulder.
My heart burst at Jaxon’s quiet figure creeping behind the bearded man who was occupied by his mumbling and unbuttoning of his pants.
When he stepped toward the man, his wet shoe squeaking on the tile floor, the sound was inescapable. The man looked over at Jaxon and then it all happened too fast for me to register. He leaped at Jaxon, whipping his blade around, but stumbling in the process. Jaxon grabbed the arm that held the blade and they struggled, the two of them grunting, trying to overpower the other. Jaxon shoved him into the nearby wall, knocking down a cheap canvas of an ocean.