Page 18 of Trust No Alpha

I brought my hands up between us and shoved.

He growled and tightened his grip on me.

I didn’t want to do it, but I brought my knee up as hard as I could right into his groin.

He howled. His hands came to my bare shoulders, gripping so hard I could feel my skin almost tear. He pushed back until I fell to the couch, then pounced on me.

I beat on him. Punched him.

He grabbed my trousers and tore them down to my thighs. “Ah, you will bend for me now!” he roared.

I kicked and flailed. I landed hard blows on his face and into his stomach. They barely slowed him down.

The world narrowed to a black pinpoint as I felt him grasp my waist and try to turn me over.

Tangled in my trousers, I kicked them off. I lashed out, fighting like a wild thing.

Blood sprouted from Father’s nose. I left a long scratch down one of his cheeks with my nails. When he shoved his arm against my throat, I squirmed back enough to grab his forearm by my teeth. I bit down as hard as I could.

He yelled until it echoed off the walls and surely that animal sound traveled on into the fields beyond the house’s structure.

As he pulled his arm back in pain, I took the opening as my advantage. I reached to the side table and grabbed a heavy abstract sculpture. I brought it to the side of his head.

He crumpled to the floor and was still.

Naked, bloody, I knelt and felt for a pulse. There was one, but it was weak.

As I stood, I glanced around my ornate rooms. There was no way to call for help. Nothing I could do.

I ran to the door and pounded on it. “Help! Help! It’s Father. Father needs help! Help!”

I pounded until my fists bled. Then in one last effort, I tried the handle. It moved and the door swung open. Father had not locked the door behind him when he came in.

I yelled into the hall. “Mathias! Trigg! Help! Help!”

As footsteps came running up the hall, I saw my brothers for the first time in weeks. Both were taller than I remembered.

I stood back and they came bounding through the door.

Mathias had his phone out in seconds, calling 911.

Mathias and Trigg stood beside Father, glancing about the room. Their gazes landed on me, naked and bloody.

“What the fuck?” Mathias asked.

“What happened?” Trigg demanded.

“It’s Father. He’s in the Burn. He’s still alive. He tried to—tried to—“ I couldn’t catch my breath.

Trigg ran to me then, catching me under my arms as I lost my balance in my shock.

“Holy fuck!” Mathias was yelling into his phone as he fell to his knees by Father’s side. I heard him talking. “Yes, he’s breathing. Yes, I can feel a pulse. Just get here as fast as you can.”

Trigg steered me toward the bathroom. “Fuck, Kris, you’re hurt.”

I gulped in huge mouthfuls of air. “I don’t care. I just care about Father. I didn’t want to hurt him. But he—he--”

“I understand. Mathias is handling it. Let’s get you cleaned up first.”