The repo boss loomed over Abigayle, his massive frame blocking out the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The stench of his unwashed body and cheap cologne made Abigayle's stomach churn.
He reached down, his thick, dirty fingers grabbing the lapels of her black trench coat.
With a brutal yank, he hauled her up from the floor, pinning her back against the cold marble wall.
Abigayle was forced onto her tiptoes.
The glass cuts on the soles of her feet tore open further, fresh blood sliding down her heels and pooling on the hardwood floor.
"Let's see what you're hiding under here," the boss sneered, his hot breath fanning across her face as his hand moved toward the buttons of her coat.
Abigayle didn't scream. She didn't beg.
She locked her eyes onto his, her jaw tight, and drove her right knee upward with every ounce of explosive force she had left.
Her knee connected solidly with his groin.
The boss let out a high-pitched, guttural shriek.
His hands instantly released her coat as he doubled over, clutching himself, his face turning a mottled purple.
Abigayle hit the floor. Ignoring the agonizing pain in her feet, she spun around and sprinted toward the open double doors of the penthouse.
She only made it three steps.
Two of the other repo men tackled her from behind.
The heavy weight of their bodies slammed her face-first onto the floor.
The rough wood scraped the skin off her cheekbone, sending a sharp sting through her face.
She thrashed wildly, kicking her legs and twisting her torso like a trapped animal.
She sank her teeth into the forearm of the man holding her right shoulder.
The man cursed loudly, ripping his arm away, and delivered a vicious backhand slap across her face.
The blow made Abigayle's ears ring, black spots dancing in her vision.
The boss, still wheezing, limped over to where she was pinned.
His eyes were bloodshot with rage. He grabbed a fistful of her wet hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to look up at him.
"I'm gonna ruin that pretty face," he hissed, spit flying from his lips.
He grabbed the collar of her trench coat and pulled hard.
The sound of fabric tearing filled the room as three buttons popped off, scattering across the floor.
"Stop! Please!" Thaddeus cried out.
The old butler dragged his battered body across the floor, desperately wrapping his arms around the boss's thick ankle.
The boss looked down in disgust.
He raised his steel-toed boot and brought it down hard on Thaddeus's chest.
Thaddeus let out a weak, agonizing grunt as the breath was forced from his lungs. He collapsed onto the hardwood floor, curling inward before going completely limp.
"Thaddeus!" Abigayle shrieked, the sound tearing her vocal cords.
The last thread of her sanity snapped.
She twisted violently, her hand blindly sweeping across the floor until her fingers wrapped around the heavy base of a solid brass sculpture that had fallen from a side table.
With a scream of pure rage, she swung the brass statue upward, aiming directly for the boss's skull.
The boss reacted just in time.
He caught her wrist mid-swing. His massive hand clamped down on her delicate bones and twisted sharply.
The sickening sound of cartilage grinding made Abigayle gasp.
Her fingers went numb, and the heavy brass statue slipped from her grasp, crashing onto the floor and leaving a deep dent in the wood.
The boss dropped his weight onto her, pinning her completely. His hand reached for the edge of the towel hidden beneath her torn coat.
Despair, cold and absolute, finally washed over her. Her struggles weakened, hot tears finally spilling over her eyelashes.
Just as his filthy fingers brushed her skin, a heavy, synchronized sound of boots marching down the hallway vibrated through the floorboards.
Outside the open doors, the screams of the remaining repo men erupted, followed by the heavy thuds of bodies being slammed into the walls.
The men pinning Abigayle froze. The boss stopped, his head snapping toward the entrance.
A tall, broad-shouldered silhouette stepped into the doorway, blocking the light from the corridor.
Donovan Sullivan stood there.
He looked like a god of war stepping onto a battlefield. His custom suit clung to his muscular frame, and the aura of pure, unadulterated violence radiating from him instantly dropped the temperature in the room to freezing.
Behind him, Kevin Rich and four heavily armed security contractors flooded the room, their weapons drawn and leveled at the repo men.
Donovan's dark, lethal eyes scanned the room.
They locked onto Abigayle-pinned to the floor, her coat torn, her cheek bleeding, tears tracking through the dirt on her face.
Donovan's pupils dilated into black voids.
He slowly reached up with one hand and unbuttoned his suit jacket.
He stared dead at the repo boss still hovering over Abigayle, his voice a quiet, terrifying rumble.
"Death wish."
