Mistaken Identity (26 page)

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Authors: TC Matson

Tags: #Romance Thriller

BOOK: Mistaken Identity
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Sick bastard.

A gasp followed by deadened whimper flees from me when his fingers invade the private area of my clit, circling with haste. He moans, then the bed rises and he’s gone. Every cell in my body is on high alert, a buzz on my skin that feels like I’m a deer trapped in a bear’s den. After some time, his belt rattles. I can hear every tooth of his zipper as he lowers it. Panic sets in at the rustle of his pants. I squirm, crying out for help into my tape, pushing myself forward to get off the bed.

He smacks the back of my legs. “Sit still!” he growls.

The bed sinks down behind me. My heart strikes against my chest, hammering faster. Something soft begins rubbing across my ass, jerking in some spots, sliding smoothly in others. The soft object slaps heavily down. The understanding that it’s his penis sinks deep into my soul. Panic surges like horses taking off during the start of a race, thundering through my veins. I kick out my legs again in a last ditch effort to end this ghastly circumstance, but Logan has other ideas planned. He yanks my hair back, pulling my chin to the ceiling. White lights flash around the room as the pain becomes unbearable. My scream is muffled by the tape and sounds like a breeze through a busy city. It’s too far off in the distance.

“If you move again, Samantha, I will kill you.” He snatches my knees back up underneath me, “And we wouldn’t want that yet, now would we.”

Yet? He wouldn’t…would he? His hand finds my sex again adding something wet to it causing me to forget instantly about the yet. His penis lowers to my entrance. I slam and squeeze my eyes shut coming to grips with the violation I can’t deny is about to happen.

A sudden shot of pain rips through my core as he slams his dick deep inside of me, making me take all of him at once, forcing me to stretch against my will.

“No!” My scream sounds like a high pitched hum. He moans in pleasure resembling the devil’s dog himself.

I’m tense, trying fiercely to make it hard for him to slide in and out of me, but it’s not working. The piercing thrusts continue. My insides are on fire as he rips the dry tissues and tightened muscles. He paws at my hips, digging his fingers into my sides as he slams into me as far as he can, grunting and hissing through his teeth. My body rejecting the unpleasant, shoots pains the full length of my body. My ribs take the brunt of the force as he rocks us forward. He slaps my ass then brutally grabs my hips again, squeezing bruises into them.

His pace becomes furious. He leans over sliding his hand under my shirt grabbing my breast. His squeezes are terrifying. I bawl at his forcefulness. The sharp pains pulsate into my chest. A grim relief of pressure spans over my head when he lets go of my hair to steady himself on my hips. He slams harder and harder filling me to his entirety. My insides never give him the pleasure of moisture and his frenzied thrusts burn like hell.

“Oh fuck yes!” he barks out digging deeper and spilling himself inside me as he climaxes.

He stills, his dick pulsing inside of me as he catches his breath. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to feel you. I can do this all day.” His chuckle is threaded with pure evil.

Nausea sets in and I feel like I’m going to puke. My brain understands that what just happened is going to happen again. The bed raises back up and I think I hear him put his pants back on.

“Now don’t you move,” he laughs shutting the door.

I lie motionless to see if he’s tricked me, but the room is still and I feel deserted. My eyes dance around the room looking for something to help me get the tape off. I catch a glimpse of the clock, 7:22 a.m. Tanner should be calling soon. His worst fear was to leave me alone, and I told him I’d be fine. I lied. I didn’t mean to. He won’t ever forgive me.

I roll to my side and heave my legs off the bed as quietly as possible letting my knees fall to the floor silently. Metal scratches my thigh when I slide down. Startled, I jerk in a breath. I spot the perpetrator of my scratch and realize if my bed frame can cause a scratch, it can rip the tape. I back up and position my wrists against the sharp edge pushing and pulling. Thank God it’s not making much noise. If he suspects anything I’m sure he’s going to kill me.

I succumb to instant relief as the tape releases its tightened grip around both of my wrists. I grab at the tape over my mouth, and like a Band-Aid, I yank hard, pulling my skin, sucking in air. I start pulling at the tape around my ankle but the amount he has on it will take me too long, so I twist my legs around to the sharp edge of the frame and push and pull like I did my wrists. The tape snaps and before I can indulge in the instant relief, I jump to my feet readying to get the fuck out of here.

I lunge toward my phone, stumbling into my disordered blood-spattered bed. I grab my phone, and my panic stricken, shaking fingers pull up Tanner.

 

Samantha: Logan Starkes. Here
.

 

After sending the text, I grab the house phone, dial 911, and toss it on the bed. It’s at this moment, I’m grateful Jess talked me into agreeing to a house phone. I head for the door not knowing where he’s at but I’m getting my ass out of this apartment one way or another. The thought of the window comes to mind, but since the stalker shit started, we made it almost impossible to get out of it quietly. I put my ear close to the door trying to distinguish where he’s at in the apartment. I hear nothing. I turn the knob quietly and crack the door peeping through the small line of vision. Relief floods me when he’s not staring at me with evil glowing eyes. I pull the door back and take a step just as he rounds the corner. My heart stops taking my breath with it. His eyes widen and jaw clenches surprised to see me there.

I push hard against my feet and bolt toward the door, my victory line. He charges me and grabs my arm flinging me toward the living room and further away from my victory. I fall backward into the living room already scrambling to get to my feet as he advances toward me. I’m barely steady on my feet when he slaps me with the back of his hand and I stumble backward into the kitchen. Before regaining my stability, he grabs my neck and squeezes his fingers into my skin, forbidding permission to breathe. I’m bent over the counter when his fist slams into my face. Bright burst of lights flash. His eyes are cold, glowering into me. He tightens his grip. I’m too close to being out of air. I flail my arms in every direction, pushing at his face and feeling the counter for something to help me. Then I feel something burn my skin. My brain takes a second to register what I just touched. I finally begin to turn the pot to get ahold of the handle.

Everything is becoming slow motion. Air isn’t reaching my brain. With a tight grip on the handle, I pull, slamming it into his head. The pot breaks and shards of glass mixed with scalding hot coffee explode around us.

Logan’s icy eyes roll backward and he releases his grip, sliding down to the floor. I take a step over his slumped body still desperate to get to the door when everything decides to go black. I feel the cold floor and sharp glass under my body. Then chaos breaks out and I hear voices.

“Sir! In here! We need an ambulance! Ma’am? Ma’am?”

I try to open my eyes, but they aren’t lifting. I’m tired.

“He’s over there. He raped me. Help.” I hear my words clearly in my mind, my mouth moving, but nothing is coming out. The chaos begins to fade giving way to quiet black.

Chapter 38

 

 

 

It’s quiet. Too quiet. I’m lying down. I move my hands relieved they’re not taped. Taped. My eyes blast open remembering Logan is still here. The room is unfamiliar. He’s here. In the same room. I can feel his presence. Everything is fuzzy.

“Samantha!” I know that voice. It doesn’t sound like Logan. I turn my head to the direction. To my complete and utter relief it’s Tanner. He’s found me. Oh God, where’s Logan. I try to sit up, but the agonizing pain from my head to my toes prevents movement.

“Samantha, sit still. Don’t move.” His voice is tender yet scared. “You’re in the hospital. You’re safe.”

A faint groan exits my throat and it hurts like hell. Tanner presses a button alongside the hospital bed and a loud ding blares in my ears. Memories begin invading.

“Jess!” I try to scream through the flames in my throat.

“She’s fine. She went to our house to take a shower,” his thumb rubs across my knuckles. That shit hurts too.

Thank God. That means he didn’t get to her.

“Well hello, sleeping beauty,” a beautiful lady appears at my side, her dark green eyes smiling with her mouth. “You might not be able to talk yet, so just shake your head or squeeze my hand, okay?”

I make a small nod closing my eyes ashamed at the condition I’m in. “How’s your pain?”

I hurt everywhere. My head, my sides, my legs, my arms, it all hurts horribly. I shake my head to each side, the pain reminding me to keep it small.

“Okay let me adjust this, hopefully it will help.” She presses a button on a machine, “Miss Beckman, can you open your eyes as wide as you can for me? This is going to be bright, I’m so sorry.”

I stretch my eyes open as far as the pain will allow and she shines the damnedest bright light into each eye. She makes a hum and puts it away, thank the Lord above.

“Thirsty,” I rasp out.

“I’ll get you some water.” She turns and heads out the door.

Tanner’s a sight for sore body, even with dark circles under his eyes and his face beginning to resemble a bear’s ass. He rubs his thumb over my knuckles again. His eyes are hurt, or concerned, I don’t know but he looks scared. Tears develop into my corners and spill out onto my cheeks. I’m alive with the man who melts my heart beside me. I’m alive. Violated, but alive.

“Okay, honey, I’m going to move your bed up just a little. Stay as relaxed as possible.” The lady, who I suspect is my nurse, begins raising the bed. A weak moan escapes me from the pain of the movement and immediately she stops.

“This will do here. Drink from this straw.” She places the straw in between my chapped lips, “and drink very small sips, Miss Beckman. This might hu—”

Pain. Sting. The water slightly extinguishes the flames in my throat but causes a sensation I cannot describe other than steam from hot coals. “Hurt.” She finishes her sentence with sympathetic eyes.

“Can’t breathe,” I rasp out.

“Honey, you won’t feel like you can for several days. When you start to heal, it’ll get easier. Try not to move around, sweetie. Mr. Weston knows how to reach me if you need assistance. You’re a lucky woman. Please get some rest.” She gives a warning eye to Tanner and heads out shutting the door softly behind her.

The room has become foggy. I try to blink to regain focus, but I can’t get my eyes to lift back open. I’m back in silence, drifting out into the sea of sleep.

“Has she woke up yet?” I hear Jess’ voice which is too loud for my ears.

“Jess?” My mumble sounds hoarse, and I’m unable to open my eyes.

“Oh, Samantha! I’m so sorry!” I wince when she grabs my hand.

I open one squinted eye at her. “For what?”

“I didn’t set the door buzzer back after kicking Marty out. This is entirely my fault,” she begins to sob.

I shake my head closing my eyes. I think I hear her but everything is fading again and my eyes refuse to open again.

I wake to a dark room and thankfully I feel somewhat better this time. I turn and spot Tanner laid back in a chair sleeping. I try to sit, but I’m still in pain that causes me to let out a groan.

Tanner shifts and jerks up. “Hey,” he says sleepily.

“Hey,” I still sound raspy but it doesn’t hurt so badly now.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I fell down a mountain hitting every boulder and tree on my way to the bottom.”

He chuckles, moving hair that fell in my face when I tried to move. “Yeah, you’re coming back to us.”

I glance around the room and spot Jess in the corner, sound asleep curled up under a blanket.

“She’s not left but twice. You’re a brave woman,” he whispers.

“Did they get him?” I vaguely remember the chaos when he fell. I know I heard someone enter the kitchen.

“They did. You—”

“Belle,” Jess interrupts from the other side of the room. Her voice pounds my ears.

“Hey. Shhh…please.”

“How are you feeling?” she whispers this time.

“Like I need coffee in my IV,” I wince at the pain my small laugh causes. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. The asshole grabbed me when I was sleeping. Taped me up and threw me in my closet. Belle, I was so scared. I heard everything,” she begins crying, “you screaming. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t help. I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

“It’s not. Who knows what would’ve happened if Marty was there.” My throat is starting to become engulfed with scorching hot flames again. I reach for the water, but Tanner is quick to take notice and brings the straw to my lips. Remembering the first time, I’m very cautious and take a small sip testing the pain. It’s not unbearable, so I take another pleasurable sip.

I bring my hand to my face, my fingers rubbing across a bandage. “He broke your nose,” Tanner says.

“What’s my damage?” I ask.

He squeezes my hand, and tries to give me an “it’s okay” smile, but says nothing.

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