Page 143 of Torn
Oh my God. He really is chasing me.
He tackles me from behind and we go down, with him snaking one arm around the front of me and using his other arm to break our fall. We land on the dirt driveway with him lying ontop of me. I gasp for air, both from fear and getting the wind knocked out of me, and I’m petrified when he covers my mouth with his hand.
“Don’t scream. Just breathe,” he says against my ear, and eases up some of his weight off my back. His growly voice makes my skin crawl.
Slowly, he moves his rough hand across to my cheek.
“Why did you run?”
“Please don’t hurt me,” I beg, gasping for breath as tears start streaming down my cheeks.
“Of course that’s the first thing out of your mouth.”
“Tyler… please.”
His finger continues to stroke across my cheek and it sends shivers of terror down my spine. “I like when you beg.”
“Just let me go.” I push back against him and kick my legs up, trying to throw him off me but he’s too big and muscular for me to even budge him.
“No. You might want to stop squirming, though, ’cuz I haven’t had a woman under me in a long time.”
“Please…” My heart pounds in fear but I try to reel myself in so I can attempt to get some control over the situation. I already know he’s mentally damaged. But I also know that this is Tor’s brother, and somewhere in him must be the happy-go-lucky, caring, talented person that we once knew.
“You know who I am, right, Ty?” I ask, trying to keep my voice calm.
“Yup. Little Kenzi Valentine all grown up.” He rolls his hips against my ass and I suck in a shuddering breath, praying he doesn’t touch me anymore and hoping he’s just trying to scare me in some sick demented way.
“Tor’s going to be mad if he finds out about this.”
He lets out a maniacal laugh. “I’m not afraid of Tor.”
“What do you want?”
“You leave gifts for me. Why?”
I gulp air. “I don’t know… to be nice. I thought it would make you smile.”
Another crazy hyena laugh erupts from him. “You think I need to smile?”
“Yes,” I reply simply, because I believe it.
“You feel fuckin’ sorry for me?”
I shake my head, my cheek pressing into the dirt. “No. I don’t. I just think everyone deserves to have someone treat them nice.”
“Even a monster like me?”
“Even you,” I whisper.
“I didn’t take that girl,” he says, his voice softening just a little. “And I didn’t hurt her.”
“I know that.” And I did know that. When Tyler was found with a local girl who had been kidnapped years ago, everyone in this small town assumed he was the one who had held her captive for all those years. He was found standing over the body of a man dressed in an oxford shirt, with dark slacks and loafers who appeared to be a nice, normal man, while the girl stood by and wept, not saying a word. And there was Tyler, with wild, long dirty-blond hair, tattoos covering most of his body, which were actually hiding scars from years before, wearing old dirty motorcycle boots, ripped-up jeans, and a faded T-shirt stretched over muscles that had just been used as a weapon to take the life of someone. But in fact, Ty was the hero who saved her. He killed her real captor with his bare hands after he attacked Ty for accidentally stumbling upon the kidnapped girl hidden in a hole deep in the woods. Sadly, the press had already had their field daywith the story before they knew the facts, and Tyler was crucified, pushing him even further into seclusion.
Leaning down close to my face, he pushes my hair to the side and presses his lips against the spot just behind my ear and whispers in a seductive tone.
“Itdoesmake me smile.”
When I say nothing, he lifts himself off my back and pulls me up so we’re both sitting in the dirt driveway.