“Shh.” He sits me back up. “It’s okay.” He pushes my hair from my tear-streaked and snot-covered face. I duck my head, but he grips my hair and yanks my head back before slapping me again.
I spit on him.
He wipes it from his face and smiles at me. Yanking me from the couch, he shoves me to my knees and holds me hostage in front of his phone by my hair. “Tell him,” he growls in my ear. “Tell Colt that you’re my dirty f*****g slut now.”
“No—”
He slams my face into the coffee table, and I see f*****g stars. Pain explodes behind my eyes, and my vision goes black for a moment. Blood runs out of the corner of my already busted lips.
Pulling my limp head back, he reaches forward and fixes the phone that got knocked over in the process. “Tell him,” he snaps. “Tell him how much you’re going to
