Page 27 of Ripping the Odds

“Who are you kidding? They’ll all scatter the second we enter the building anyway. They’re terrified of you.”

“Good. It’s better that way. I’m their boss, not their friend.”

“True, but would it kill you to smile every once in a while when you’re walking around the resort?”

“It might,” I deadpanned.

“Whatever. We should go.” She flicked her hand toward my friends. “The guys are waiting.”

“Let them. Nobody told them to come here.”

“Wait. Are you jealous?”

Fuck yes, I am.

“No.”

Liar.

“Then stop brooding and grab my crutches. I’ve got six weeks worth of your mess to unravel.”

I stole a quick kiss before doing as she commanded. “Yes, dear.”

Chapter 6

Criminal Grocery List

Prudence

Pain. So much pain.

I was strapped to that god-awful chair, begging them to stop. Like my pain was a source of amusement for them, the assholes laughed harder. A small crowd had gathered around us, watching my abuse with indifference. I’d learned early on, none of them would help me. They were probably grateful it wasn't them.

Punch. Stab. Punch again.

A little longer, Pru. Hold on a little longer.

The words played on a constant loop in my head. I had to stay awake, had to fight the darkness. Zak was on his way. Somehow I knew it without a shadow of a doubt. He’d find me, and when he did, he’d blame himself. I couldn’t let that happen.

Stay alive. Don’t let them win.

The biggest of Machail’s men came into view. A jagged scar ran from his hairline down to the corner of his lip. He was the worst of the three, the most vicious, as if he enjoyed the misery he dealt. His face contorted into a nasty snarl right before he drove the blade into my leg.

I shot straight up in bed, a scream ripping me from the nightmare. It only took a second to realize the scream had come from me. The tank top I’d worn to bed was dripping with sweat.

“Shit,” I spat.

My trembling hands snagged the cell phone off the bedside table. I dialed before I could second guess the action.

Zak answered on the first ring. “Pru, you okay?”

“I woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t. I’ll be there in thirty seconds. Stay on the line with me.”

There was a rustling in the background, followed by pounding footsteps and the slam of a door. Heavy breathing––his and mine––filled the void. For the first time since I woke up from the dream, my body relaxed. Calling him had been instinctual, like my mind knew he was what I needed. But how was that possible? We’d barely begun to build the next level in our relationship, yet somehow the intense pull I’d felt toward him since the beginning had grown stronger. I couldn’t explain it, just like I could no longer deny it.

“Wait.” What he said finally registered. “Where are you?”