He Lost Me to His Best Friend novel Chapter 792

"God, you're so damn fiery when you fight back."

The man's voice was a low, raspy murmur right against her ear, speaking in perfect, unaccented English.

The voice was just as familiar as the cologne, yet her oxygen-starved brain still couldn't connect the dots. But the predatory intent radiating from the man pinning her was unmistakable.

A cold sweat broke out across her skin. Her head spun, the edges of her vision blackening.

Just as she felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, a cloth heavily doused in a sweet, chemical scent was shoved forcefully over her face.

The hand on her throat released entirely, and her body betrayed her—she took a deep, gasping breath, inhaling the sickly-sweet fumes straight into her lungs.

He held the rag tight. With every desperate heave of her chest, more of the chemical flooded her system.

Within seconds, her limbs felt like lead. A strange, heavy heat began to spread through her veins. Taking advantage of her sudden paralysis, the man slammed her against the brick wall. His hand dropped, moving swiftly to the button of her jeans.

"Get... off me!"

The moment she realized what he was doing, she screamed—or tried to. The sound came out as a weak, pathetic whimper. Her cheeks were burning, her breathing shallow, her entire body engulfed in an unnatural, feverish heat.

That rag wasn't just chloroform. It was laced with something else.

The realization sent a shockwave of pure, unadulterated terror through her soul.

"Still trying to run?" he hissed, his eyes blazing with a dark, terrifying fire. "Don't you know fighting me only turns me on more?"

When he looked down into her clear, defiant eyes, he was instantly transported back to the day they had first met years ago.

Pinned beneath his crushing weight, Scarlett's hands scrambled blindly over the filthy pavement. Her fingers brushed against something plastic and sharp.

By the shape of it, she instantly knew what it was—a discarded syringe left behind by one of the alley's junkies.

Feeling the needle still attached, she gritted her teeth against the overwhelming lethargy dragging her down. Just as his hands moved to tear at her clothes again, she gripped the plastic barrel.

With a feral cry, she drove the needle deep into his shoulder and slammed her thumb down on the plunger, emptying whatever filthy narcotic was left inside straight into his bloodstream!