Always His | (Book 3) 18+

thirty

AMELIA
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Shouting. Glass shattering. Laughing... Mario Kart?

My eyes fluttered as I gained consciousness. Once my vision wasn't blurry and my head don't feel so heavy, I looked at my surroundings. I was tightly tied to a chair in nothing but a bra and underwear, duct tape over my mouth. I tried moving my arms but they were pinned to my sides.

Oh, fuck. How long have I been out?

"The bitch awake yet?" A raspy voice asked, followed by harsh coughing.

One of the men huddled around a small TV looked back at me. "Yup."

The Mario Kart music suddenly came to a pause and all four men rose to their feet, making their way to me. Soon, I was surrounded by four pigs that reeked of sweat, cigars and alcohol.

One of them leaned down and smelled my hair. "D'Angelo's one lucky bastard to have a nice piece of ass like this."

I shivered, forcing my head away from him. Another one grabbed my face, squishing my cheeks together.

"Betcha her mouth does fuckin' wonders," he slurred, nodding when the other men agreed with laughter. My eyes shut to hold the tears back as he ripped the duct tape off of my mouth, then forced it open with one of his thumbs. "We can always have a bit of fun before Kian—AGH!"

He cried out in agony as he pulled his fingers from my mouth, his hand shaking as blood poured from his thumb. I spat the blood out at their shoes.

"That fucking bitch bit me!" He screamed.

I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut when there was a harsh smack across my cheek. I breathed out slowly and wanted nothing more than to rub the stinging pain away.

"You better not be roughing up our guest, men."

In record time, they were back in their places by the tiny television. Kian walked inside and smirked the second our eyes met.

I still couldn't get over how Kian is nothing like what I thought he'd look like. For starters, he's a lot shorter than I thought he would be, and he looked a lot dirtier and grosser than what I believed the leader of such a successful cartel would look like. The one thing that never surprised me to begin with was the tattoos up both his arms, up his neck.

I'm pretty sure the only thing he had going for him was his face. Even then, he wasn't that attractive.

Kian walked towards me and tilted my head to the side, inspecting the cheek that was just slapped. He kissed his teeth and turned slowly.

"Which one of you hit her?" he asked calmly.

Silence flowed through the room and my eyes went to his hand as it went to his back pocket. They widened when he pulled out a gun, flicking the safety off.

"If I ask a second time and don't get an answer, you're all going to have a gullet between your fucking eyes," Kian spoke again.

Like a fire was lit under their ass, the men didn't hesitate to point to the man cradling his bleeding hand to his chest.

"I-I didn't mean to," the man stammered, getting on his knees. "She bit me, Kian! The bitch had it coming—"