Cartel

Read Cartel for Free Online

Book: Read Cartel for Free Online
Authors: Lili St Germain
Tags: Romance
arrived.’
    He chuckled, a sound that made the hairs on my bare arms prickle uncomfortably. ‘I left once I saw your little boyfriend bleed out on the ground,’ he taunted. ‘So, yeah. I saw you in the alley with your skirt up around your head. They have rooms you can rent by the hour, you know?’
    His words were razor sharp, laden with derision, and it bewildered me. This guy didn’t even know me! Why did he seem so offended by my sexual proclivities?
    More to the point, why was he getting under my skin so badly?
    ‘You were spying on us?’ I asked in disbelief, as embarrassment and indignation flushed my face. For the first time, I was thankful I was wearing the black bag on my head and that he couldn’t see me blush.
    ‘You weren’t exactly hard to spot,’ he said, placing a hand on each of my knees and wrenching them apart as I cried out in horror. ‘You’re obviously up for a good time.’
    I didn’t care what the rules were meant to be, if I was meant to comply now that I was ‘property’ and let this guy have his way with me. My hands weren’t tied anymore and I pushed that bastard’s creepy hands away as hard as I could, raking my fingernails along his flesh for effect.
    His entire body tensed up and I cringed in my seat, waiting for a blow that never came.
    ‘Stop.’ A voice cut through the tension. Emilio.
    ‘I’m going to kill you, you little whore,’ the Suit spat.
    ‘Stop!’ Emilio’s voice rang out again, filling the car.
    Relief flooded through my limbs as I realised he was in the car. It was swiftly followed by confusion and then shame, that I was happy my new owner and likely murderer was present.
    ‘The little slut made me bleed,’ the Suit protested, and I heard Emilio tut.
    ‘You should have been more careful, Murphy.’
    Murphy? A stupid name for an asshole of a man.
    I sniffed, placing my palms on my thighs, tugging my dress down to cover as much skin as possible.
    ‘You crying under that bag, sweetheart?’ Murphy mocked me. ‘Because where we’re going, tears are weakness. Those boys’ll tear you apart, and I’ll watch the show.’
    ‘Fuck you,’ I said bitterly, the material muffling my voice as I slouched back in my seat.
    ‘Oh, no,’ he drawled, and I could picture the smirk on his lips. ‘You’ll be screaming, they’ll be fucking you, and I’ll bring the popcorn.’
    I had never felt so alone in my life, and shit was going to get a whole lot worse before it got any better.
    The drive ground on for what seemed like days. Weeks. Years . I was desperately thirsty, but didn’t dare ask for any water. Didn’t dare ask for anything. Every time I relaxed, felt myself drifting on a daydream of numbed shock, I would remind myself who I was in the car with. That knowledge would cause me to sit upright, as my heart rate skyrocketed and fresh sweat formed a slick on my palms. I was tired, and terrified, and I desperately needed to pee.
    When the car finally did come to an abrupt halt, I wasn’t prepared for the sudden braking. I was thrown forward, and I gasped as I caught myself on my hands and knees on the carpeted floor.
    Murphy laughed, and I felt his long, ice-cold fingers at my neck as he undid the rope that secured the bag over my head. When he pulled it off I winced, his arrogant face the first thing that swam into my vision.
    I realised I was on all fours, my face way too close to his lap. I scrambled backwards into my seat just as my door was opened. A hand closed around my upper arm and tugged. ‘Out.’ I fought the urge to scream and stepped out of the limo, jumping as the door was slammed loudly behind me.
    ‘Nunio!’ Emilio said sharply. ‘It’s not a fucking chingalera , so why are you treating it like one?’
    Nunio looked ruefully at Emilio, who had just told him not to treat the car like a piece of shit. ‘Sorry, boss,’ he said, tugging me along. I looked up at the tall building we were in front of, the cars parked in a large, opulent

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