Page 96 of Evil Enemy

I changed tactics, trying to appeal to the basic sense of human decency that I remembered he’d once had. Zane was just as big as his brother. Just as muscled. Just as strong. If he wanted to, he could get me out of here.

He just had to want to.

I crawled across the dirty floor, agony splintering my chest, making it hard to breathe. I clutched the leg of his pants. “Please. Help me.”

Something flickered in his eyes, and hope lit up my chest.

“We were friends once,” I blurted out. “You remember? We sat in your room, while you played guitar? Zane, please.” My voice broke, and the tears rolled down my face.

“You did what?”

The snarl from Eddie’s side of the room was more feral that any animal I’d ever heard.

And anything in Zane’s eyes—any part of him that remembered that night—disintegrated along with Eddie’s words.

The hope inside me died.

When Eddie’s fingers speared into my hair and yanked me away from his brother, I wasn’t even surprised. I was too dead inside to feel anything.

“You’re mine, you filthy little slut. Mine. You hear me? Not his. Not those maggots at the club you whored yourself out to while you were away from me. Mine.”

When his fist slammed into my temple once more, I welcomed the darkness.

It was where I belonged after all.