One Wild Weekend With Luther by Lexi Hart

Author:Lexi Hart [Hart, Lexi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hart 2 Hart Publishing
Published: 2019-12-06T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 8.

LUTHER

Blood splatters against the brick as my head flops with the force of his punch. “Luther Beckett. NSDAP15337. Corporal. March 15, 1990,” I choke out.

I must have dozed. When I wake, Jess is tied to a chair alongside mine.

He slaps her hard, and I snap my head up to spit a curse in his direction.

Jess whimpers beside me and I know they’d been working her over too while they carved up my back.

Her face a mess of bruises, her lip is swollen and blood is trickling down her chin. I can only hope that’s the worst they did to her.

Our captor leans closer to her and grips her chin. She flinches and he grips tighter. “This is your final chance, Corporal. Where are the rest of your company?”

Jess doesn’t move, but her eyes go wild as his hand drops from her chin to her t-shirt.

He looks in my direction. “You know my men wanted to rape her. I’m the only thing between them and her. And I’m losing patience.”

Panic overrides the pain tearing through me, three days of sleep deprivation, no water and no food are making me reckless.

“You want to fuck with someone, fuck with me you retarded asshole.”

Instead of getting him to focus on me, he laughs and rips Jess’ shirt open so her bra is exposed.

She starts to sob, and I know if he touches her, I won’t hold out for rescue. I can’t let that happen to Jess. I’m supposed to have her back; she’s always had mine.

I try my restraints one more time, even though I lost the circulation in my arms a day ago. “She needs medical attention. Get it for her, and I’ll talk.”

Jess’ eyes pop and she spits a curse, letting me know she’s got something left in her tank. “Don’t you fucking dare you piece of shit. Don’t you dare give me special treatment.”

Despite myself, my lip curls into a half-smile at her continued attitude. If I can keep her riled up, maybe we’ll stand a chance. “Everyone knows women can’t be Marines. Too hormonal,” I mutter.

Jess cusses me out, so I carry on insulting her, insulting women, calling her weak, anything I can to delay him acting on his threat.

I raise my head and find him smirking at us, but it hasn’t worked. Either he saw through it, or he knows it won’t be long before we’re found.

He slowly picks up a scalpel from the table beside Jess. Her chest starts to rise and fall too fast, but she stares ahead as sweat starts to run down my forehead.

The first slice into her arm, she doesn’t react, but a single tear spills down her cheek as he runs the scalpel over her bra strap.

He looks at me as the bare skin of her breasts are exposed. “You think her husband will want her after we’re done cutting her tits off?”

All my training, all the months spent preparing for this tour, and there is nothing I can do except give up the information he wants.

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