Too Easy- 34

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Emma POV


As I stood there, holding hands with the woman, I realized two things. 

First. I'm a dumbass

Second. Iker is not dead. 

He clutched at his chest as he got back on his feet, with a murderous glint in his eyes. Me and the woman froze before turning to look at each other. I saw my own fear reflected on her face.

My face blanched when I noted the gun laying about six feet away from Iker's feet. I lunged for the gun the same moment Iker did. I crouched and took hold of the gun, feeling momentarily elated at the prospect of outrunning Iker. 

"Bitch!" He grunted as he kicked the gun out of my hand. Yelping in pain I clutched at my fingers.

My attempt to quill my bruised hand was interrupted by a solid kick to my side, sending me sprawling on the sticky floor beside the bar stools. Iker straddled me and rolled his neck before restraining my wrists to the floor. His mouth contorted into a menacing grin as his gaze slowly trailed my body. 

"Get off me you disgusting pig!" I seethed, my words barely coherent. My throat still throbbed from his earlier attempt to choke me to death. In response Iker backhanded me. I felt my head spin as pain shot from my broken nose. I cried out with frustration as I squirmed underneath his weight. 

"I know sluts your type," Iker grunted as he shifted his hold on me. "Masochist. You like it rough, don't you," he smirked. 

Suddenly Iker forced me face down, and pulled my leather jacket off my shoulders. My scar riddled arms exposed in full display. Iker turned me around again as he laughed. 

"What the fuck is this shit?" He gripped my wrist, pulling it up to further examine it. "That's some kinky shit," he said in a gruff tone into the shell of my ear. I clenched my jaw in an attempt to keep from sobbing. 

Just when I thought I couldn't be more mortified, Iker partially ripped my dress off my chest, revealing my bra and bruised skin. 

"Stop! Don't touch me!" I attempted to scream but my voice came out  as nothing but a broken rasp. My vision blurred as my eyes stung with unshed tears. I started to shake as fear streamed through me like cold ice. 

Iker's callous hands groped my chest, pulling off my bra, and I started crying in frustration as my attempts to get him away only managed to tire me out. Breathing became difficult as Iker put more of his weight down on my abdomen. 

"Let the girl go, shitface!" Both of us turned to see the stripper lady shakingly holding the gun. Iker stilled for a long moment, observing her terrified face, her tight grasp on the gun she pointed at him from across the room. 

He laughed. The fucker laughed, and went right back to trying to rip my clothes off of me. This time he went for my tights. I winced as the fabric ripped, my legs were bound at the ankles where the remaining of my tights was pulled down.

"Oh you're real freak in bed, aren't you?" Iker's shit eating grin grew bigger at the sight of my scarred thighs. Iker took a firm grip of my jaw and brought his face closer to mine. I could smell the acrid scent of alcohol, cigarette and other drugs as he brought his mouth down to roughly kiss me. When I didn't open my mouth, he tightened his grip on my jaw, making me gasp in pain. He didn't waste the opportunity to stick his tongue into my mouth. 

I felt fury with the helpless predicament I was dealt. My mind flashed to every moment of helplessness I ever experienced; all the fear and pain I ever felt at the hands of people who ever wronged me. 

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