First Choice ✓

Chapter 40. T

Antonio

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I can't get it out of my head.

Her scream.

It was fucking gut wrenching.

I still don't know how I didn't ruin their faces already. His face, especially.

He put his hands on Sara. My Sara.
My fingers are shaking, but I'm holding it in. I'm holding everything in.

She looks . . . She looks void. Her eyes are looking into my own, but it's like she's looking through me.

"Okay, let's get you to bed." I say and wait for her to stand up. I don't know if I should—can—touch her.

Her fingers lift and land on my upper arm. She uses it to lift herself up from the couch. Putting my hand on her lower back, I guide her to our bedroom.

Her face is blank. She's blinking just fine. She's breathing just fine. But I'm not sure how she's feeling on the inside.

"I'm going to undo the zipper at the back." I say, steeling my voice so I don't give out my anger. My fucking rage.

She nods and I go behind her, slowly lowering the zipper.

I scrub a hand over my face when I see her neck.

It's red.

There are literal red marks on her neck. Teeth marks.

She's not standing in front of the mirror. So I'm glad she can't see them.

I've told her a few times how I liked the fact that she bruised easily, meaning my slightly rougher kisses will be visible on her for a day or two. But now I hate—fucking loathe—that fact.
The dress falls to the floor, and she steps out of it.

I didn't tell her she looked beautiful in it.
I'm burning this dress now. It's fucking cursed.
She stands in front of me, only in her panties. I sweep her body, looking for more marks, and I wished I didn't.

That fucking piece of shit, fucking scumbag, is dead.

I'm going to kill him. Slowly.

There are fingerprints on her hips.

My jaw is hurting from how hard I'm clenching it. Trying to hold a scream inside. My body is humming with adrenaline and I need to kick and punch something to let some of it out.

I was just on my way to see Sara in the room Izzy was in when Monroe, the VIP bodyguard, told me he saw my girlfriend with another guy. He said she was looking a little uncomfortable. But he didn't know for sure, which is why he didn't intervene right away.

The moment he uttered the word 'uncomfortable', I was marching to her.

The sight of her sitting on that motherfucker's lap, with his hands holding her hostage and his lips on her neck; I want it erased from my brain.

And I have his name. I have all the names of the others who were in the room, too. But I recognized him. When I picked Sara up from work once, I saw him there. Since that moment he seemed fishy to me and I didn't trust him. He had snuck up on Sara while she was talking to her boss in her office. And I was about to yank him from his collar and throw him ten feet farther from Sara when she dodged him as soon as possible.