Bloodlines and Bullets

twenty-seven

Arrio's body presses against mine, making it impossible to move away. I can feel the heat radiating from him, a menacing presence that makes my skin crawl.

"You know," he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear, "it's not every day I meet someone who catches my interest like this."

I try to steady my breathing, forcing myself to think clearly despite the rising panic. "We really should be heading back inside," I say, my voice strained.

He chuckles, a low, dangerous sound. "Come on, don't be like that. Just relax and enjoy the night. I don't bite - much."

His hand drifts lower on my back, his fingers brushing against the curve of my hip. A jolt of alarm races through me. I shift my weight, trying to create some distance, but his arm is like a vice, holding me firmly in place.

"Arrio, please," I say, attempting to keep my voice calm and firm. "Let's get some nachos from the bar or something."

He leans in even closer, his face inches from mine, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I don't think you understand. I'm not giving you a choice right now."

I glance around, hoping for someone to come out and interrupt, but the backyard is empty, save for a few distant streetlights casting long shadows. I'm tired, tired of people forcing their will on others. Tired from the alcohol and exhausted from the past few months of people thinking they are superior to me. I try to shift my body, bringing my knee up sharply. His reaction is immediate; he grunts and flinches, but his grip remains tight.

"You think you can push me away with that?" he sneers, his eyes narrowing. "You're going to have to do better than that."

With a surge of adrenaline, I twist sharply, aiming to break free from his hold. My elbow catches him in the ribs, and he grunts again, momentarily loosening his grip.

I seize the opportunity, pushing him back with all my strength. "Get off me!" I command, my voice edged with urgency.

He stumbles back, his face contorted with frustration and anger. "Oh, angel. I wouldn't have done that if I were you."

I turn to the side, running to the door that leads back inside. Before I even make it halfway, he lunges forward, grabbing my arm with a painful grip. His fingers dig into my flesh, and I wince as he spins me roughly toward him. His other hand clutches my shoulder, pushing me hard back against the wall. The cold, rough surface connects with my head and presses into my back, leaving me momentarily breathless. My head throbs.

What about Luciano and his men? They are supposed to be here, supposed to watch my every move to make sure I don't make a run for it. Where are they? Where the fuck are they?

I'm completely alone.

"Let go of me, you fucking prick," I spit out, venom cloaking my words.

His response is immediate and brutal - he pulls me slightly toward him before slamming me back against the wall, the impact rattling my skull. A wave of dizziness crashes over me, and the world tilts as I struggle to focus. His forearm presses against my throat, cutting off my breath just enough to send a surge of panic through me. My hands fly up instinctively, nails digging into his skin as I desperately try to peel his arm away, fighting for air.

"I'm going to fuck you now, and the more you struggle, the more I'll enjoy it. The more you beg, the harder I'll get. Do you understand that, angel?" His breath is warm against my face.

I glare at him, letting the hatred in my eyes speak for itself, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. His left hand moves from my shoulder to my right breast, caressing it. The lack of oxygen is taking its toll, my vision blurring further by the second. His arm remains firm against my throat, unyielding, as I continue to claw at him, struggling against the darkness creeping in at the edges of my sight. He pinches my nipple trough the thin fabric of my dress and my bra underneath. My body jolts upwards, trying to get away from the painful sensation.