The Devil's Apprentice: Book 2: Descent to Hell
Page 25
Oliver did stay down. The kick to the chest had him gasping for breath. Mark watched him for a moment, and then satisfied that he had shown his alpha credentials, he moved onto to Emily.
From his position on the ground, Oliver watched as Mark reached down and grabbed Emily by the arm. He pulled her up roughly. She didn’t resist. She only glanced down at Oliver once, her look unreadable, before she stared up at Mark.
Mark gave her a kiss on the lips before his hand moved behind her head and he grabbed fistful of her hair. Holding her head back, he slapped her across the cheek. Emily screamed. He slapped her again, and once more, and a third time.
Mark let go of her hair, and as Emily staggered back, her legs wobbling, he reached for her partially torn top and pulled it off, exposing her red bra, before ripping that off too.
Oliver should have been furious, and maybe he was. But that fury was currently buried somewhere deep under the awe he felt as he stared up at Emily. She was so beautiful. She was wearing a short skirt that showed off her long legs and accentuated her ass. From there up, her chest completely bare, her breasts on display, her stomach flat, her skin perfect, her blond hair bouncing off those breasts…
She was a dream.
That dream was broken when Mark slapped her once more. Cackling like a maniac, he grabbed her by the nipples and squeezed them hard. Emily cried out in pain, but no one came to her aid. It was that sort of neighbourhood, the kind where you minded your own business, the kind where a wrong turn or even a wrong stare could mean an early grave.
Mark was pulling her skirt down now, determined to make Emily stand out in the open in broad daylight completely naked. Oliver felt an anger rise within him. His hands curled into fists, and he rose up off the ground for the second time that day.
Save for her heels, Emily was completely naked. Mark had taken off her skirt and lace underwear. He pulled her legs apart, his eyes on her cunt, his lips spread in a vicious grin, he didn’t notice the approaching Oliver.
Oliver tapped him on the shoulder, and as Mark turned, Oliver swung his fist as hard as he could.
It was much too hard.
Oliver’s fist connected with Mark’s jaw, smashing it completely. Mark fell. His body hit the ground with a thud. And then it lay there, motionless, his teeth broken and splattered on the sidewalk.
Oliver looked at his fist in shock. It was purple. His fist was purple and glowing. Why did he have a purple fist? And how was he able to do so much damage with just one punch? He wasn’t strong enough to do something like that.
“What the fuck-” Emily moaned.
Oliver shook his fist, trying to rid the purple glow. Surprisingly, it worked. His fist returned to a normal colour.
“Is he dead?” Emily asked, coming out of her state of shock. She stood beside him, placing a hand on his arm, she stared down at Mark’s body, his face bloody and badly disfigured. “Did you kill him?”
Oliver’s mind began to race. Had he killed Mark? Whether he meant to or not, the guy was lying there, lifeless. Shit. He had actually killed the guy. Oliver’s eyes scanned the street. No signs of anyone rushing out to see what had happened. This was the same street where moments earlier Mark was literally tearing clothes off a screaming woman. Perhaps nobody would notice.
Placing one hand under her legs and the other around her back, Oliver lifted up the still naked Emily. Leaving her clothes behind, he carried her as fast as he could to his car, only one thought on his mind. They needed to get out of here, and quick.
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