Page 72 of The Darkest Hour

“I’m not Paris, sweetheart.” He leaned his head to the side. “I’m very different. I’m a beast.”

“And I am not some paid prostitute at a high end sex club, because with my bare hands, I will bend and break you in ways you thought were impossible.”

He blinked and then a wicked chuckle left him. “Actually, I might like that.”

“Pervert.”

“Honey, you have no idea.” He lunged at me, the rope stretched taut between his hands.

Instinct took over, and I ducked, narrowly avoiding his grasp.

The fight was on—primal and raw.

I threw a punch, aiming for his jaw, but he deflected it easily, his movements fluid and precise.

He reached for me again, and I twisted away, my eyes darting to the knife in his other hand.

If I could just get my hands on it, I might have a chance.

Havoc lunged again, and this time, he managed to grab my wrist.

“Fuck you!” I twisted and pulled, trying to free myself, but his grip was ironclad, so I used my free hand to jab at his ribs, causing him to grunt in pain, but he didn’t let go.

“Stubborn as ever,” he growled, tightening his grip.

I kicked out, my foot connecting with his shin.

“Goddamn it!” he cursed, loosening his hold just enough for me to yank my wrist free.

Thank God!

I scrambled backward, my fingers brushing against the handle of the knife.

Almost safe.

But Havoc was relentless. He closed the distance between us in a heartbeat, tackling me to the ground.

No!

We rolled in the sand—a chaotic tangle of limbs and fury. He was stronger, but I fought with every ounce of my being, my survival instincts kicking into overdrive.

I grabbed sand and flung it in his eyes.

“Ahh!!” He roared and tried to blink through it, but I’d got him good.

“Now let’s see what you can do when you’re blind, asshole!”

He shook off some of the sand from his face, but still kept his eyes closed. “You would be surprised, my sweet little wildcat.”

“Fuck you. I’m not your anything!” I reached for the knife in his hand. My fingers brushed against the cold metal and with a triumphant gasp, I grabbed it.

Yes!

I thought Havoc would have tried to get it back. Instead, he kept his eyes closed and lifted his nose to the air.

What is he doing?

My heart pounded as I scrambled away, knife clutched tightly in my hand.