“You’ll get it back.” Her mouth was so dry she could barely get the words out. “Do you honestly think I’d try to keep it?”
“Peut-être,” he snarled. “Considering the money I’ve promised your father, you’re no better than the whores I pay.”
She flinched at first, then lifted her chin. What Julian was saying was ridiculous. He was just lashing out, trying to hurt her, and she’d be damned if she’d let him hurt her anymore than he already had. “My father doesn’t need your money.” She tried her best to sound unaffected, but her voice trembled, betraying her.
“Your father,” he said with utter disdain, “is losing his company one share at a time.” He let out a harsh, condescending laugh. “You didn’t think I was actually in a hurry to get married, did you?”
He paused, waiting for a reaction, but she refused to give him the satisfaction.
“Someone’s making a play,” he continued, “buying up stock left and right.” It was obvious how much he enjoyed being the one to break the news. “He needs me, or at least my cash, to save it.”
Still gripping her tight with one hand, he ran his index finger down her throat until he reached the low neckline of her dress. He hooked the material with his finger then let it dip between her breasts. Allie’s heart rate spiked and her eyes darted toward the door. Four steps, maybe five. Thank God it was unlocked. He’d catch her if she had to struggle with the deadbolt. All she had to do was break free.
A dark glint flashed in Julian’s eyes and he slowly licked his bottom lip. “I’d say you owe me.”
Allie struggled but he tightened his grip. Fear lodged in her throat, choking her and causing her breath to come in shallow gasps. She could barely draw enough air to speak. “Let go of me, you sick bastard.”
From out of nowhere the back of his hand struck her face. The force of the blow knocked her off-balance and she fell hard, her head smacking against the coffee table with a loud crack. White light flashed behind her eyes and her head exploded with pain. She felt a gush of warm liquid flow down the side of her cheek and instinctively her hand flew to her face. When she lowered it, her fingers were bright red.
Allie looked up, her vision blurred with tears and blood, to find him coming back for more. She tried to scramble away only to feel a sharp burn in her scalp as he grabbed a fistful of her hair. The room shifted as he hauled her to her feet, and for a second she thought she might faint.
Julian yanked her back against his chest. “You fucking bitch,” he growled in her ear. “All you had to do was play the damn part, stand up and say I-fucking-do.” With a hard shove he bent her over the back of the couch. The blow to her ribs knocked the breath from her lungs in a powerful gust.
“I held up my end. Right now my dick’s hard, you’re here, and I’m just drunk enough.” He kicked her legs apart with his feet, one hand still in her hair, pushing her face into the cushions while the other unzipped his fly.
Panic gripped her. She tried to cry, to scream, but unable to catch her breath, managed nothing more than a silent plea.
No . . . please no. . . .
Chapter Thirty-seven
Hudson heard the guttural snarls of a man’s voice funneling down the broad stairwell as he entered the foyer of Allie’s brownstone. Panic washed through him and turned his blood to ice.
Without breaking stride, he bolted up the stairs two at a time. His heart started beating hard and fast.
Oh God, please let her be okay.
He burst through the door and the scene in front of him was instantly burned into his retinas. Allie bent over the couch, her legs kicked wide and blood running down the side of her face. Julian postured behind her, holding her down with one hand and working his fly with the other.
And he lost it.
Hudson’s body went on autopilot, all action and very little thought. He launched himself forward, grabbing Julian by the back of the neck and throwing him off Allie. Julian slammed into an end table, taking a lamp with him as he crash-landed onto the floor. The porcelain base shattered beneath him and the shards dispersed like marbles across the hardwood.
Staggering to his feet, Julian turned to face Hudson. His hand was bleeding from a deep gash in his palm, and when he clenched his fist, blood oozed between his fingers. The guy was definitely juiced up on something that was interfering with his pain receptors.
A calm menace vibrated around Hudson while he waited for the French import to get upright. “You just going to stand there, or are we going to do this?” His glare narrowed. “I’ve wanted to sack the shit out of you since day one.”
Julian fanned his arms out in a challenge, blood dripping off his hand. “Isn’t this sweet, the knight riding in to save his whore,” he taunted. “That’s all she is, just someone to wet the tip of your dick.”
The guy had a serious death wish.
In a blaze of white rage, Hudson charged at Julian and the two men collided, force against force and fist to fist.
Allie fell back out of their way. “NO! Hudson, please . . .” she sobbed, unable to do anything to stop the fury breaking loose in front of her.
Taking a double shot, a nice one-two to the ribs, Hudson sucked in a huge breath and shut out the pain. He methodically returned the favor and nailed Julian with a stunner of an uppercut, his bare knuckles absorbing the blow. Bones cracked and blood gushed. Julian’s head snapped back up and Hudson rebounded with a strong left, splitting his brow wide open.
The determined fucker wasn’t going down easily.
Julian wiped the blood off his face with his forearm and came back at him in a wide swing. Hudson dodged to the side and Julian’s fist plowed into his kidneys, throwing him off-balance. Pain exploded up his spine and down his legs. His face screwed tight and his teeth clenched. Goddamn, that hurt.
Hudson’s rage jacked further. That’s the thing about pain—it either knocks you down or fires you up. Right now it was one hell of a motivator.
Before Hudson was fully aware of what he was doing, he surged forward, caught Julian by the throat, and flattened him out on the ground. Julian’s eyes widened and his pupils dilated as Hudson’s Ferragamo came down on his throat. Julain grabbed the shoe with both hands and tried to pry it off, but Hudson kept his foot pressed tightly to his neck.
“Did you know it only takes a small amount of pressure to crush your windpipe?”
Julian’s face turned red and his hands shook as he tried to push Hudson off.
“Ever come near her again and I’ll rip your fucking esophagus out and use it as a garden hose. Now nod.”
Julian nodded, his hands still white-knuckling Hudson’s loafer.
“Good boy.” He removed his foot from Julian’s neck and left him coughing on the floor.
Hudson turned toward Allie, and the blow of seeing the tears streaking down her bloodstained cheek was worse than any hit he’d taken from Julian. He took his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”
She sagged against him, barely managing a nod.
“Let’s go.” He held her tight as he guided her out of the apartment, shielding her from the curious eyes of her neighbors.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Allie closed her eyes against the bright light and shivered.
“Are you cold?” Hudson knelt in front of her, gently wiping the blood off her face with a warm washcloth.
She shook her head and it made the room spin. “No, I just can’t stop shaking.”