Page 172 of Unsuitable

He steps back, and then he grabs the top of my dress and yanks it down, ripping it open, exposing my bra. His eyes flash with excitement, and my stomach revolts, sick with fear.

“If you’re a good girl and do as I say, I’ll kill you and your girlfriend quickly. You fuck with me, and I’ll kill you slowly. I’ll fuck you and your girlfriend six ways to Sunday, and then I’ll make you watch while I cut her open before doing the same to you. You hear me, Daisy? Play nice, and this will all be over real soon.”

Body quaking, I swallow roughly, my throat like sandpaper.

His hand comes up and roughly grabs my breast. “So fucking pretty. I’m going to enjoy every fucking minute with you.”

He rips my dress the rest of the way off, leaving me in only my underwear. His eyes run a sick appraisal over my body. An evil-sounding chuckle comes from his mouth. Then, he leans forward, and his disgusting tongue licks the top of my breast.

Tears running down my face, I lock eyes with Cece. She’s crying behind her gag, her eyes wide with fear.

I shut my eyes, so I don’t have to see her. As though that will stop her from having to see this.

This must have been how it was for Haley and Kas that night.

Something inside me suddenly snaps.

No.

I won’t let this happen. I won’t be this sick fuck’s victim anymore. He’s taken enough from me already. He’s not robbing me of this as well.

He’s never doing this to anyone ever again.

And, if I have to die while stopping him, then so be it.

Because I’d rather be dead than be his victim for one second longer.

Then, I stop thinking and just act.

I tightly grab ahold of his balls, squeezing harder than I ever have in my life.

He cries out in pain and shock. His head jolts up, and he head-butts my chin. I bite my tongue, and blood floods my mouth. But I don’t let go. I keep a tight hold of that motherfucker’s balls.

“Get the fuck off me, you fucking cunt!”

He hits me with the butt of his gun. Pain explodes in my eye, and I lose my hold on him as I stumble back, clutching my eye.

“You’re gonna fucking get it now, you little bitch.”

He punches me in the face. I fall backward, hitting the floor.

He’s on top of me, and I’m fighting him with everything I have.

But he’s too strong.

He grabs one of my flailing arms, forcing it to the floor and pinning it there. I see the bottle of champagne lying on the floor beside me, only inches away.

If I could just grab it…

He presses the gun to my forehead. “What did I fucking tell you?” he snarls. “I told you to behave. But you just don’t fucking listen, do you? Do you want me to put a bullet in your girlfriend’s head right now? Or maybe I should just put a bullet in yours.”

He pushes the gun harder against my head, and I know there’ll be a bruise there—if I live through this, that is.

“Because you are becoming more trouble than you’re worth. And, honestly, Daisy, I have no problem with fucking your still-warm corpse.”

A laugh bubbles up out of me, and it sounds maniacal. I feel maniacal.

I stare up at him. “Do your worst, Doyle. I got a feel of your tiny cock, and I’d be surprised if I’d even be able to feel it anyway.”