Chapter 44

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CATLIN

“That little shit is fucking obsessed with you.” The Russian darkly chuckles. “And I can’t fucking wait to find out why.”

He didn’t shoot me, but what I think he has planned might be worse than death.

Keeping calm throughout the call with Finn, tears trickle down my face as they end the call. My heart breaks, worrying that I’ll never see him again and hoping desperately that he knows I was screaming for him to come and help me.

Please know I’m not just at church. Please save me.

“That’s a good girl,” the Russian croons, further tightening his already painful grip around my throat. Turning me to face him, he eyes the salty droplets trickling down my face, and the depths of his eyes turn soulless. He swipes his fingers over my wet skin and whispers, “Your tears are fucking beautiful.”

I try to hold them back, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of affecting me, but my body betrays me. Tears flow uncontrollably from my eyes, streaming down my face and dripping from my chin as I sob.

“And they taste even better,” the Russian groans with disgusting delight as he licks the underside of my chin and up my cheek. Desperately, I grip his wrist with both hands and try to pull him from me as I struggle to breathe. He cleans my other cheek with his tongue. “I can’t help but wonder if all of you tastes this good…”

Turning me away from him again, he uses grip on my neck to pin my back against his chest. His gun returns between my thighs, and I tremble in fear as he firmly rubs it against me through my jeans. Adjusting his hold on the butt of it, he pulls at the top of my jeans, trying to undo the button. As he glances down, trying to find my zipper, he asks, “Is the rest of you as fucking soaked as your beautiful face?”

Clenching my jaw, I exhale ragged breaths as he takes his time lowering my zipper.

“Who cares if she’s fucking wet,” one of the guys standing near Uncle Sean interjects as he overtly grabs his crotch. “She’ll take all our fucking cocks regardless.”

The Russian holding me quickly lifts his gun, and I barely hear the shot before the man talking has a hole in the center of his forehead. I startle and bite my tongue to keep myself from screaming.

“I care.” The warm words blow against the shell of my ear. “I want you to know how much your body fucking loves what I’m doing to it. Your body betraying you as your pussy drips, and you repeatedly come around my cock; hating yourself for enjoying how fucking good it feels.”

He loosens his tight hold on my throat, and my lungs burn as I suck in a deep breath. Sliding the gun up my stomach, he wraps his arm around my neck. His free hand drags roughly along the side of my body, and he whispers, “Be a good girl and cry for me.”

His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of my panties, and Uncle Sean shouts, “Stop!”

The Russian sighs as he pulls his fingers out of my panties. “Are you going to be like this all fucking night? I like my women screaming, not their fucking families.”

“He’s just fucking jealous,” a man with a wine stain on his cheek snarks.

“Is that it, Father?” The Russian walks toward Uncle Sean, dragging me with him. “Are you fucking jealous?”

Using the gun to tip my face up to him, the Russian’s eyes bore through me. “Did you never spread those curvy thighs of yours for your uncle?”

“You’re disgusting,” I spit, my stomach turning at the thought.

“All those years of owning her tight little ass and this tease never let you have a taste?” The Russian pushes me closer toward Uncle Sean. “I’m not letting anyone in her little cunt before me, but I bet those pouty lips of hers suck one hell of a cock.”

This cannot be happening.

Where are you, Finn?

The Russian grips my shoulder so hard that I wince in pain as he pushes to me to my knees at Uncle Sean’s feet. “Maybe if she sucks your stubby celibate cock, you’ll shut the fuck up long enough for me to enjoy her a time a two. I’ll even let you watch as I bend her over your altar.”

I glance at Uncle Sean; he looks like a broken shell of the angry man who banished me from this church a couple of months ago. A tear trickles down his cheek when he looks down at me and mutters, “Just shoot me.”

“Not until you shoot your load down her throat,” one of the men jests, and laughter erupts through the church.

Taking advantage of their distraction, I look at Uncle Sean and mouth, ‘Finn is coming.’

Hopefully, really soon.