Standby (Open Skies Book 4) by Becca Jameson (best sales books of all time .TXT) 📗

small room, hands on his hips. He was a bit wobbly. Drunk. His words were slurred too.

Shayla jumped up and flattened herself to the wall. She needed to at least be standing. She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. He was much larger and stronger than her, but her adrenaline was pumping so hard she felt mighty. Or perhaps just fucking pissed.

“Where are we, Hawke?” She decided to ask questions.

“Hunting cabin. Cozy isn’t it?”

She swallowed. “Why are we here?”

He chuckled manically as he continued to approach. “You fucking met with my wife. I couldn’t let that go, Shayla.”

Shit. “I didn’t meet with your wife. She met with me. I didn’t even know you were married. She found me.” What the hell did he think happened?

“Semantics.” He suddenly reached out, grabbed the front of Shayla’s sweater, and slammed her against the wall. She didn’t see it coming, so she didn’t brace herself on time. Her head hit the rough wood hard, adding to her headache. “You shouldn’t have agreed to meet with my fucking wife. You messed with my family, Shayla. I can’t let that go unaddressed.”

She didn’t respond. Nothing was going to appease him anyway. The chances of this encounter going any direction but south were nil.

He yanked on her sweater and tugged her away from the wall as he turned and headed out of the room, nearly dragging her.

The main room was at least warmer. He’d started a fire. It wasn’t less rustic than the bedroom, but it was a larger space. Old couch with tears in the upholstery. Small table with two unmatched chairs. There was no actual kitchen, but there was a counter of sorts along one wall. No electricity. No running water. A very rustic mountain cabin.

She wondered if he owned it. If there were records, maybe someone would think to look for her here.

He gave her a shove, making her fall onto the sofa. Dust flew up in the air and she squinted to keep it out of her eyes. A loose spring dug into her back.

As he strolled to the corner of the room, she twisted her head around to find the exit. There were only two doors, the one she’d just come through and the one that must lead outside. No bathroom.

She considered running for the door but wasn’t sure it was her wisest move.

Hawke bent down and opened a cooler in the corner of the room. He grabbed a beer and popped the top. As he tipped it back and let half of it slide down his throat, she wondered how many he’d had.

He set the beer on the counter and leaned against it, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Don’t even think about running, baby. It’s fucking cold out there and we’re ten miles from the next house. You’d die of hypothermia before morning.”

She wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not, but for now, she would err on the side of caution and take his word for it.

“I won’t lose my family over this, Shayla. My kids need their dad.”

“Okay. Maybe you should talk to Marilyn. Try to work things out.”

He tipped his head back and laughed hard. “Maybe you should talk to Marilyn. Seems you two are chummy.”

“Look. Your wife called me. Not the other way around. I know nothing about her. But if she’s important to you, tell her. What are you doing here with me? Go talk to her.”

He slammed his hand on the table. “You think I haven’t tried that, bitch?” he shouted.

Shayla stood slowly and took a step back. She wanted to be as close to the door as possible in case running became the better option.

“What do you want me to do, Hawke?” She asked calmly. “I can talk to her for you if you want. How about if I call her?”

His grin was smarmy. “No cell service up here, baby. Just me and nature. Isn’t it nice?”

“Look. Tell me what you want, Hawke.”

He slammed his hand on the table again and took a long swig of his beer. “I want you to fucking apologize for being a cock tease and a homewrecker,” he shouted.

She took another step back. Antagonizing him was not going to help. “I’m sorry for whatever you think I did.”

“Not good enough, baby. Not good enough.” He shook his head. “You can’t just fuck around with me a few times and then decide you aren’t interested. That’s messed up, baby.”

He thought she was messed up?

“You need to take me back to the hotel, Hawke, before you get in trouble. You’ll lose your job if you do anything stupid.”

Another cackling laugh. “Already resigned. Too late.”

She flinched. He’d resigned? That was bad. Very bad.

“Let’s go back into Seattle, Hawke. We can talk in my hotel. Maybe we can work something out.”

“Little late for that, don’t you think? Should’ve thought of that before you stopped taking my calls and then fucked with my wife.” He slammed back the rest of his beer and sauntered toward her.

She backed up, but when he reached her, he grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the room.

Pain shot down her body from her scalp to her toes. She nearly tripped several times before he shoved her against the back of the couch stomach first. He flattened his chest to her back and yanked her head harder. “How about a fuck for old time’s sake?”

Her blood ran cold. The last thing she wanted to do was get anywhere near this asshole’s cock. She would never be able to stop him from raping her. Even inebriated, he was stronger.

When his hand came to the front of her jeans, she batted at it, trying to get away. She kicked at his shins and screamed.

He jumped out of the way of her feet and laughed. “Scream all you want. No one will hear you out here. I love a woman who screams when I fuck her. It makes me hard.” He emphasized his words by pressing his