Tempted Hero by Ella Miles

Ri

Leighton’s eyesbore into me, undressing me and showing me all the horrors he plans on inflicting.

I remain perfectly still, not squirming under his gaze like I want to. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

“I think you might want to get that shoulder taken care of. Wouldn’t want you to bleed out and die,” I say.

“So sweet, your concern for me.”

I roll my eyes. I’m not the least bit concerned for him. But if he leaves to address his shoulder, it gives me time to figure out how to escape.

My hope dies when he removes his shirt, and I see a bandage already covering his wound.

How long was I out of it? Why don’t I remember?

“Speechless? I expected more of a fight out of you.”

I snarl. “It’s hard to fight when you don’t play fair. Untie me, and then we’ll see who wins.”

“Oh, I very much played fair. Don’t be a sore loser.”

“I don’t think raping me is me being a sore loser.”

He shrugs. “It won’t feel like rape when I’m done with you. You’ll be begging for more.”

“I won’t. And I promise you if you touch me, I’ll kill you. It might not happen today, or tomorrow, but you’ll be dead before your next birthday.”

“My birthday is coming up in two weeks. You won’t succeed in killing me by then.” He grins.

I glare back, narrowing my eyes into dark black slits. “I will.”

He prowls toward me. “I love how feisty you are. I almost want to untie you just to see you fight.”

“You won’t because you’re a coward and you know you’d lose.”

“I already won. You lost. But don’t worry, the moans I plan on extracting from your pretty little mouth are going to make you think you’ve won.”

He moves to the bedside table out of my vision, and I hear him pull something out.

My arm aches with a burning fire from being pulled up above my head. My legs are spread too wide, causing sharp pain in my hips from being overstretched. I don’t know how I’m going to escape. The ropes are tied well, and it will take me a while to wiggle out of them. But if I so much as try, Leighton will tie them tighter or add additional ropes.

It’s hopeless.

And then I feel the cool graze of metal against my stomach, and I see what Leighton pulled from the drawer—a knife. He runs the blade through my shirt, ripping it in half as he makes his way all the way up. The edge of the blade scratches my skin, leaving a shallow trail of blood from my stomach to between my breasts.

“Oops,” Leighton grins. “You’re so beautiful when you bleed, though.”

I don’t react. I don’t give him the satisfaction. I just remember every little thing he does. Every drop of blood he spills. Every crude joke. Every sly grin. I’ll remember every violation and use it all against him. I’ll make sure he pays for every ounce of pain he causes me.

But I won’t let it destroy me. I’m too strong for that.

When he’s finished ripping my shirt and bra in half, he moves down to my pants.

I close my eyes as I feel the blade against my lower stomach. I’m not sure I can handle him ripping my pants off.

If I can’t bear that, how am I going to endure the rest?

He suddenly stops after barely making a cut more than an inch at the top.

I open one cautious eye and see that he’s digging in his own pocket for his phone.

“This better be important,” Leighton snaps into the phone.

He listens carefully; his face turning darker by the minute.

“This is unacceptable.” He pauses. “Of course, I’ll be there. And everyone who had any part in this will pay.”

He practically throws his phone back into his pocket and snatches his shirt up off the bed. He almost walks out the door without even talking to me, when he stops and turns suddenly.

“I’ll be back soon, to continue this later. I’d love to see you try to escape, but I don’t expect you’ll get very far.” He runs his hand through his hair. His hungry gaze eats every inch of my bare skin.

I want to curl and hide from his stare, but I just remember. I remember every foul look.

He’ll pay.

“I’ll be quite angry when I get back and will need to let off some steam. It will make our time together much more enjoyable.”

And then he walks out the door.

I can’t believe my good luck. I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, though, and I have to get out of these ropes as fast as possible. I’m sure he has guards posted outside the door, but that will be my second problem. First, I need to get these damn ropes off.

I squirm, working the rope that cuts into my wrists and trying to loosen them.

Five minutes pass, and I haven’t made much progress. All I’ve accomplished is giving myself a bad rope burn and rubbed my skin raw until it’s bleeding. I don’t know how Leighton tied these, but it’s tighter than I realized. It’s going to take me a while to get out of these—too long.

The lights flicker and then turn off.

I instinctively let out a screech before snapping my mouth closed. I don’t need to draw attention to myself if it’s just a quick power outage. If anything, this could provide me a distraction to sneak away in the night.

Something moves in the shadows, and I freeze. My breath catches in my throat. My eyes can barely make out the movement in the dark.

Who’s there?

Leighton?

One of his men?

But then I see him—a man who has haunted my dreams with his dark grey eyes and crooked grin. A man worse than Leighton is standing at the foot of my bed.

What is he doing here? What does he want?

He’s the only man I truly fear—the only man who can truly beat me.

I shiver, I can’t help it.

Suddenly, the lights snap on. I stare at the foot of the bed, but there is no man there. He’s gone.

My head falls back, and I exhale a deep breath. I can’t hesitate for long. I need to figure out how to escape. But first, I need to settle my speeding heart so I can focus.

It was just a dream. I just imagined it. He wasn’t real.

“You really have a way of getting trapped in the worst predicaments, don’t you?” The voice snaps me out of myself, and I look around the room, until I find Beckett leaning against the wall near the bed.

Just like Leighton, he towers over me and stares down at my body with a heady gaze. But unlike when Leighton looks at me, I crave more. I want that greedy stare. I want him admiring my body. I want him wanting me.

But that’s not what he’s doing with his stare. He’s trying to figure out how damaged I am. How injured. How broken.

I hate it.

I don’t want him or anyone to ever see me as broken. I’m strong. I’m a fighter. I’m not weak.

“Stop looking at me like that. Either help untie me or leave me alone.”

He doesn’t move. Not to help. Not to leave.

I go back to trying to get the rope undone at my wrists, but it hurts so fucking much. My bicep is killing me, and I quickly give up.

“Really? You’re not going to help me.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I already helped you.”

I frown. “I’m still tied to this bed. I don’t see how you’ve helped me so far.”

“I had the guys cause a distraction. They set their building that holds their weapons and drugs on fire. Leighton had to go deal with it. You’re welcome.”

I roll my eyes. “I’ll thank you when you untie me.”

He tilts his head, still studying me like he expects me to burst into tears at any moment.

I don’t. I won’t.

“Did he…” Beckett asks, his voice breaking.

I know what he’s asking. Did Leighton touch me? Did he rape me? Was Beckett too late?

“Like you care.”

The softness in his gaze, the torment in his eyes, the twinge at the corner of his lips say he does care. He’s here. He saved me when I had no one else.

His eyes scan my body more thoroughly, looking for a sign since I won’t tell him what happened. His gaze is a gentle caress as he examines my bare breasts, the rip in my shirt, and the one at the top of my pants.

“I’m fine. Leighton barely touched me before you sent the distraction.”

Beckett nods solemnly.

“Are you going to untie me now?”

Beckett doesn’t answer me. “What is this note?”

I stare at the piece of paper in his hand with a frown. “I have no idea what it is.”

“It was lying at the foot of the bed when I arrived.”

The shadows, the ghost, the man—he was real.

I shiver as Beckett unfolds the note and begins to read.

“‘You failed. Too many know the truth.’” Beckett stops and looks at me. “What does this mean?”

I shrug. “I have no idea.”

He holds my gaze, looking firmly in my eyes like he can read my thoughts, down to my very soul. With an intense heat in his eyes, he says, “I think you do.”