Page 47 of Forbidden Fate

Zabala looks at Cruz. Then at me. Then Cruz again.

I don’t know what he sees. I don’t know if Cruz is a good liar or if Zabala is just arrogant enough to assume no one would dare cross Vega under his nose. Maybe both.

Please be both.

Zabala rakes his gaze over me, and somehow I feel even dirtier.

“Why does she look so pretty?” he asks. “Wasn’t she supposed to be beaten up tonight?”

My throat closes.

“I was looking forward to tomorrow,” Zabala continues. “Taking the photos of her naked bruised body.”

I say nothing, because if I open my mouth, I’ll either scream or spit in his face.

“I’ll take care of it once she’s moved,” Cruz replies, his voice cold and detached.

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

“She doesn’t look frightened enough.”

I almost laugh. It would come out hysterical, so I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.

Zabala reaches for my free hand. I try to pull back, but he holds on and lifts it to his lips.

My stomach heaves.

His lips are warm and damp. Then he slowly drags his tongue over my skin.

Vomit claws up my throat. I stop breathing. I stop being a person.

“I’ll miss this pretty little face,” Zabala says, looking up at me. “But broken women are a lot more fun to play with.”

I force the nausea down.

I want Cruz to kill him. Hell, I want to kill him myself.

Not hit him.

Not shove him.

Not threaten him.

Fucking kill him.

Zabala releases my hand.

I snatch it back, but I can still feel his lips and tongue. I will scrub my hand raw if I survive this.

When.

When I survive this.

Zabala looks at Cruz. “Don’t make her too ugly before tomorrow.”

Cruz inhales. “I don’t take orders from you. Now get the hell out of my way.”