Page 42 of The Unruly


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“Wow. Pathetic.” I start laughing, hysterically I might add, but it does the trick. “No wonder you had to leave civilization. No woman in her right mind would want that tiny thing inside them.”

A growl vibrates out of him. We struggle as he attempts to remove my panties. I scrape my fingernails along the side of his neck, relishing in the howl that escapes him.

“Your whole family is vile. Wretched human garbage. I’ll kill you all in your sleep one day!”

His dick turns squishy against me, which has me laughing harder. My cruelty is working. Good, I’m more than happy to destroy him in any way I can.

“I bet Michael’s dick is big and actually works,” I taunt. “Maybe I’ll take him up on his offer for a second wife. How humiliating would it be for you to have to turn me over to him? I’ll tell everyone it’s because your dick is so pitiful, and you can’t even get it hard.”

He roars, yanking my panties right off my body. When he sits back, wrenching my thighs apart and exposing my pussy to him, I tremble in fear. I’m about to change my tune—to be nice—just to get him to stop.

His eyes fixate on my pussy and he frowns. “Is that blood?”

Oh God. If he figures out how I got that blood, this could be bad for both me and Ronan.

“I’m starting my period,” I blurt out, though it’s a lie. “It’s about to start gushing. I always get these gross clots that look like pieces of my organs are coming out—”

He gags violently. “Sh-shut the fuck up!”

Snapping my thighs together, I scramble away from him, dragging the sleeping bag over my naked legs. “It smells like sewage and rotten eggs.”

Another gag.

“Fuck it, I’m out.” He stumbles out of the tent and crunches away.

I wait, listening, as he retches nearby. The thought of him throwing up makes me gleeful. Quickly, I snatch my underwear and jeans. I throw on my clothes and boots in record time.

Once I’m feeling safer, I crawl to the entrance of the tent and peek out. CJ glances my way, turns green, and vomits all over the ground.

My heart pumps with victory.

I won’t let this worm of a man take me down without a fight.

Pain assaults me from every direction.

As I wake to the low hum of voices outside our tent, I take stock of my injuries. My head is throbbing uncontrollably, my ass is raw and burning, and my wrists are on fire.

I crack open my eyes, carefully taking in my surroundings so as not to bring Logan’s wrath upon me once more. I’m shocked to discover the tent is empty and my hands are no longer bound. With a groan, I sit up so I can inspect my wrists. Blood crusts around each one from the bindings cutting into me last night. My fingers are still stiff from not getting enough blood flow, but I can move them better this morning.

A twig snaps nearby and then someone is at the entrance of the tent. My heart hammers in my chest and my nerves come alive as I prepare myself to face off with Logan. Luckily, it’s not him. Kristen pushes through the opening, arms full of several items.

“Hey,” she says softly, handing me something wrapped in a hand towel. “You’re probably starving.”

I take her offering and peek inside. Strips of cooked meat, still warm, are piled in a mound. I’m apparently ravenous because I tear into the gamey meat, uncaring what exactly I’m eating. Based on the toughness and the small bones, I’m going to say rabbit or squirrel. Not my favorite, but I can’t exactly complain. I suck all the meat off the bones, discreetly pocketing one of the larger, stronger pieces for a potential future weapon. Once I’ve wolfed down breakfast, Kristen hands me a bottle of water.

After I gulp down the water and am feeling marginally better, she scoots closer before taking hold of my hand. Neither of us speaks as she sets to using the supplies she brought in with her to clean the cuts on my wrists. The alcohol burns, but I welcome the jarring sensation. I need to be alert and ready for anything Logan throws my way.

Whatever happens, I can’t let him bind me again. I was helpless to fight against him. If only I had my hands free, there’s a good chance I could have landed a punch or something to escape his abuse. My efforts to protect my siblings are throwing me right into the bear’s clutches.

I have to be smarter about this.

I have to find a way to escape.

As though reading my mind, Kristen lifts her gaze and says, “Don’t.”

My grunt in response has her continuing.

“You think you can escape, but trust me, it’s not that easy,” she murmurs. “I’ve tried many times and it all lands me right back in this tent. With him.”

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