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“Who are you?” she asked.
“I’m Ivan. This slut’s boyfriend.”
Her lips thinned. She really doubted that he was Britney’s anything, apart from her drug supplier, maybe.
“Get out.”
She stepped over Chinese take-out boxes that littered the floor, and knelt next to her friend. She grabbed a blanket off the floor and threw it over Britney’s lower body to cover her nakedness. Britney was in really bad shape. Her eyes were sunken into her pale face and she barely had a pulse.
Suddenly an arm wrapped around her chest.
She yelped when Ivan pushed her onto the ratty carpet. She swung her fists, but to no avail. He straddled her body and grabbed her hands in one fist.
“Get off of me!” she started yelling, which only made him laugh.
“I like ‘em feisty.”
Oh God. His breath smelled like a sewer.
Okay, don’t panic. You know what to do.
When his hands went to her breasts and ripped open her top, she made her move.
Her teeth latched onto his scruffy cheek and she bit. Hard. Not letting go until she tasted blood.
Yuck.
“Fucking bitch!”
She poked him in the eye, followed by a move she’d learned from self-defense class, and got away from under Ivan. Those classes Jazzy had dragged her to were finally paying off.
Stepping behind the coffee table, she put more distance between them, and took a defensive stance.
Adrenaline was coursing through her veins, making her blood sing. Knowing that she could take care of herself was incredibly empowering. Unfortunately, she wasn’t sure as what to do next. Her Krav Maga lessons had been about fending off your attacker and then run the hell away. Well, that last part hadn’t been in the instructions, but she’d filled that in herself. Except, she couldn’t just leave Britney with this creep.
Ivan crawled back on his feet, his eyes blazing fire. “I’m gonna cut you open, bitch.”
She sucked in a breath when he pulled out a knife, her flight instinct almost taking over.
Make a stand!
Do I have to?
Yes, you do!
Following the advice of her inner dialog, she was just channeling her inner Amazon, when the door was bashed in. Yep, bashed in, because Hector literally broke the door off its hinges when he stormed inside.
One look at her torn clothes, and his eyes turned into razor sharp shards of green. He didn’t speak when he walked up to Ivan. In the blink of an eye, he disarmed him. Then he just grabbed him by the throat and introduced his face to the wall. Repeatedly.
Mary winced when she heard bones break. She could see Death in Hector’s eyes. Maybe she should stop him. On the other hand, prison had conjugal visits. It might be her only way in with Hector Diaz.
“You have any idea who you’re messing with?” Ivan spewed. “I’m Ivan, and—”
Hector swung him toward the sink. Ivan’s head thudded against the sink mirror and bounced back. Hector kicked his knee, then did a spin to his head until Ivan was knocked out cold.
Mary checked on Britney again. Her not waking up, after all the ruckus around her, was a bad sign.
“Overdose,” Hector said, while pulling out his phone. His eyes went to the needle on the table.