He moved closer and grabbed her by the arm.
He pulled her up and pushed her onto the table roughly. Lina's back hit the hard wood, and every bottle on the surface crashed to the floor. Glass shattered around her feet.
She winced. Pain shot through her spine. But the pain was forgotten the moment she looked up in horror and saw his face. Fear gripped her heart. She knew, with absolute certainty, that she was in danger. There was no one to save her. She had to save herself.
She thought about how she was going to get out of here. Then her hand touched something cold. A bottle. She wrapped her fingers around it slowly, carefully, not alerting the man. Then she raised it and swung at his head.
The man was fast enough to dodge.
The bottle missed and shattered against the wall.
That made His face twist with fury.
"Bitch," he growled.
He grabbed her by the neck. His hand was thick and rough. Then he slapped her across the face.
Lina did not even have time to feel the first hit sting, before another slap landed on her face. And another. Her ears rang. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She was terrified.
She knew there was no escaping. So she resorted to begging. Maybe he would be merciful.
"Please," she begged, her voice choked with sobs. "Please, stop."
Hearing her beg made him even more furious. He grabbed her hair and slammed her head hard onto the table.
Stars exploded behind her eyes. Her vision blurred. The pain was white-hot and everywhere.
"So you can beg?" he said, his voice mocking. "Huh? You can actually beg? So now you're begging?"
He pulled her hair back roughly and pushed her down again.
"You bitch don't deserve my forgiveness. Because I was gentle with you earlier, you think you can hit me in the head?" He leaned close, his breath hot on her face. "Now I'm going to show you. Don't worry. I'll hear your pleas down there. We'll both enjoy it."
He started to unbuckle his belt.
Lina lay weakly on the table. She could not speak. Her body felt broken. She wanted to run. She wanted to scream. But she was too weak.
She watched weakly as the man loosened his belt.
Then she closed her eyes.
She accepted her fate. Tears ran down her face as she thought about how one red dress had put her in this nightmare. She should have worn something else. She should never have asked Bella for help. She should have at least pack one suitable piece of clothing for herself, just one.
She tightened her eyes shut as she heard the belt fall to the ground. Then she waited. And waited.
But instead of feeling a body on hers, she heard a loud noise.
A heavy, blunt thud—something solid hitting the floor—then the vicious smash of glass. Followed by a man's grunt—sharp, strained, breath punching out of him as if he'd just taken a blow or had his weight slammed down.
She half-opened her eyes weakly. Through her blurred vision, she saw a tall figure standing with his back facing her. Dark clothes. Broad shoulders. A solid, immovable stance.
She watched as the man—her attacker—was slammed against the wall.
Whoever this new man was, he was strong. Fast. And furious, her attacker didn't stand a chance. Every sound that followed was one-sided—the thud of fists landing, the crash of a body into broken bottles, the sickening crack of bone against wood. Her attacker grunts turned into gasps, then nothing but the heavy, ragged sound of someone trying to breathe and failing.
Lina sighed in her mind. She said a silent prayer of thanks to God for sending help. She tried to keep her eyes open, but they were so heavy. She saw a blurry shape walking toward her before she was enclosed in darkness.
---
Lina felt an intense ache all over her body. Most especially her head—her head was something else entirely. It felt less like a headache and more like her skull was being split open from the inside with a dull, twisting blade. Every heartbeat sent a fresh wave of pain crashing behind her eyes. The room spun even with her eyes closed, and somewhere deep behind her temples, something throbbed like it was trying to claw its way out. Even breathing made it worse.
She felt like she had just woken up from a really bad nightmare.
She tried to open her eyes. It was hard. She winced, and the movement pulled at the wound on her cheek. The pain brought her fully awake.
She finally opened her eyes.
And as soon as she did, the memories came flooding back.
It was not a dream.
She had almost been...
Fear gripped her heart. She sat up on the bed, staring ahead in shock. Her body was shaking. Her breath came in shallow gasps.
She looked around warily, afraid the man might still be there. But she was in a familiar room. She was in her hotel room. The same room. She breathed a sigh of relief.
She checked her body to see if anything was wrong. For any signs of violation. Except for the physical pain—the bruises, the cuts, the pounding in her head—nothing was wrong.
She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She sat like that for a long time, thinking about what had happened.
She would have been raped.
Thinking about it made her so scared that she hugged her legs tighter.
She looked around again, wondering how she had gotten back. She remembered a blurry figure before she lost consciousness. Someone had brought her here.
It must have been Carter, she thought. It was Carter.
Only he would have come back to save her. He had left with the other men, but he must have realized something was wrong. He must have returned. If he had not, she would have been…
She shook her head. She did not want to finish that thought.
She tried to get up but almost fell. She caught herself by holding onto the bed frame. After making sure her feet were steady, she stood upright.
She noticed she was covered by a long dark jacket that did not belong to her. Carter's jacket was grey. She remembered that clearly. But this jacket was dark—almost black. She frowned.
Whose jacket is this?
But she was too exhausted to dwell on it. She pushed the jacket question aside and made her way to the door. She needed to find Carter. She needed to thank him.
She opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
She passed the door opposite hers—the one she had convinced herself she had imagined Daniel behind—and was about to take another step when she saw Carter walking toward her in a hurry.
He looked worried. His face was pale. His eyes were wide.
"Thank God you're safe," he said.
He hugged her as soon as he reached her.
Lina was taken by surprise. She forgot how to breath. Carter was hugging her. His arms wrapped around her, like she was something special. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek—strong, fast, real, and the world stopped tilting. Her own chest ached in the best possible way. The pain in her head didn't vanish, but suddenly she didn't care. It was like floating. Like every bruise on her body had been waiting for this exact moment to stop hurting. Her knees went weak. Her thoughts scattered like startled birds. She didn't dare move, didn't dare breathe too hard, afraid he might let go. This was every daydream she'd never admitted to having, playing out while she was still too dazed to believe it. She wanted to stay in his arms forever. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
"I'm so sorry for leaving you behind," he said, his voice thick with guilt. "I should not have left you alone. I should have known something was wrong."
Lina was speechless. She could not think properly. What surprised her more than anything was that Carter was holding her. He had never touched her like this before.
She closed her eyes and let herself feel it. His warmth. His scent. His arms around her, making her feel safe.
He had come back for me, she thought. He saved me.
---
Unbeknownst to them, the door opposite Lina's room had opened just a crack.
It closed slowly and softly. No one noticed. No one looked.
Carter pulled away. He saw the bruises on her face—the red marks, the swelling on her cheek, and her forehead, the cut near her eye. His expression darkened with guilt.
He had followed them out. Didn't think twice. Because who would have expected something like that to happen? They had stood by the car, and he overheard them talking—saying things about how 'he' was going to enjoy himself. About the sacrifice they we're making for a brother.
He hadn't understood at first. He asked them what they were going to show him. They just said, Read the room, bruv. And by the time he got back inside, she was gone. He had been so fucking scared. He thought he had taken her somewhere else. Thought he wouldn't find her in time.
Then a call came from the hotel staff. That someone had brought lina back in. He came as fast as he could.
"I'm fine," Lina said. She tried to smile, but the movement pulled at the wound on her cheek. She winced instead.
"You are not fine," Carter said firmly. "Let's get you checked out. Now."
Before Lina could protest, he scooped her up into his arms. He carried her through the hallway and out of the hotel. She was too weak to fight him. Too tired. Too relieved.
She rested her head against his chest and let him carry her.
---
As soon as they turned the corner and disappeared from sight, the door opposite Lina's room opened fully.
He stood in the hallway, still dressed in his dark suit. His face was cold. His jaw was set. He glared at the empty space where Carter had carried Lina away.
In his hand, he was holding a medicine pack. His fingers crushed the cardboard box, crumpling it like paper. He did not even notice.
His eyes stayed locked on the hallway long after they were gone.
Then his phone rang.
He pulled it from his pocket and answered, holding it to his ear. His eyes remained cold. His expression unreadable.
He listened to the voice on the other end for a long moment. Then he ended the call without a word.
He walked fully out of the room, pulled the door closed behind him, and walked away.