Spent - Part Two (Bad Boy Fighter Book 2) by Elise Holland Page A

beautiful mom, my stepfather, my friend Cameron. And Luke. Tears flood my eyes as I realize I really do love Luke, but that I probably won’t live to be able to tell him those three little words.  
    The sound of the knife clattering across the floor means Derrick isn’t stabbing me for now at least. My body relaxes, only slightly. A fraction of the lethal danger is away from my body, but only a fraction. I have to stay alert and fight for as long as I can and pray to God that Luke gets here soon.  
    “Kiss me, Baby,” Derrick mutters insidiously as he lowers his face closer to mine.  
    I know that I won’t acquiesce to that, even in an attempt to save my life. I’d rather die. I spit at him, splattering blood across his bald head. Derrick grins, chilling my veins with a type of horror that I’ve never felt before, not even with my father.  
    His lips clasp forcefully across mine. I feel his teeth cut my upper lip, causing a shooting pain to vibrate across my likely fractured jaw. He thrusts his alcohol soaked tongue into my mouth. I try to bite down on it, but he pulls away before I can.  
    “I always loved your feistiness, Tash,” he says as he drags his fingers through my hair, stinging my scalp, “I’m going to make you wet for me, Tasha. So wet that you’ll forget all about that asshole you’ve been cheating on me with.”  
    I can hear myself sobbing as he begins undoing the button and zipper on my pants. Vaguely, I’m aware that I’m feebly struggling and yelling as I watch from the detached, protective part of my consciousness. Hollow noises flow from my lips as Derrick hastily rips apart what little shreds of fabric are protecting me from him.  
    The pain in my jaw and my face keeps drawing me back, nearly knocking me out. I’m crying for mercy now, for life. I thrust and wiggle and try to get out from under Derrick, but I’m helpless and no match for his size and strength.  
    “I need you to stay very fucking still now, baby,” Derrick mutters as he tears away the last shred of clothing, finally revealed the nakedness of my lower half to those crazed eyes of his.  
    The hardness in his pants pushes against my leg as he leans forward to place his arm across my throat. I feel him fumbling with his belt, or perhaps it’s his zipper.  
    Please, God, no...  
    The sound of an engine comes from nowhere, and headlights flash across the wall. Derrick hesitates for a moment, listening, and breathing hard, inches from my face. I can smell the alcohol even thicker now and it makes me want to vomit.  
    A tiny spark of hope ignites within me that the car outside is Luke. I glance down at Derrick, silently praying that he won’t get hurt by this madman, but wishing more than anything he could save me now from what’s about to happen.
      “You’re insane!” I sob as I try to get out from under him before screaming as ear piercingly as I can muster.
    “I said, be still!” I feel Derrick’s fist land violently against the left side of my face just before my world grows dark. All I feel is pain as I drift off into a terrible sleep.
    ***
    Darkness consumes me. Hands touch me. I want to fight them away, but I have no strength.
    Derrick…
    The haze is too great and the void swallows me whole.

Chapter 11

    “Wake up, Tasha. Please wake up,” I hear Luke’s voice in my dreams.
    The image of him that I had in my article flashes through my mind as I sleep. His hazel eyes stare back at me, bringing a smile to my lips. My jaw hurts when I try to smile.
    Why does my jaw hurt?  
    I try to remember, but when I try, my head throbs. The picture of Luke begins to fade from the pain. I try to shake off the throbbing, instead, focusing on Luke. I still hear his voice, echoing through my mind. I look for him, but all I see is his hazy picture. Reaching out for it, I try to touch him, but he disappears. Tears begin to prick the corners of my eyes.
    I remember tears recently. I cried when he hit me. But who