Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
He carries a bunch of clothes to the bed one-handed, then tosses them down.
“Some of these should do,” he murmurs under his breath. “Be a good bitch and stay still while I tie your ankle.”
“Of course,” I say. “I trust you.”
He looks at me with dead eyes. “Sure.”
I wait for my moment. I know there’s only going to be one. When he grabs my leg, I try not to flinch or show my disgust. He places the gun on the bed, then moves to pick up a sweater. Maybe he’s going to fasten one arm or my ankle to the bedposts.
I don’t wait to find out.
I kick him in the face as hard as I can.
He screams and stumbles back. I twist sideways, feet hitting the floor, so that I can reach for the gun. He leaps toward the bed when he realizes what I’m doing. I gasp and swipe for the gun, accidentally knocking it off the bed.
Crap.
I dive onto the floor, my fingers curling around the grip of the gun. He snarls, grips my arm and flips me onto my back. I end up lying on the gun. The metal digging painfully into my back.
“Is this what you want?” He screams, climbing on top of me. He pushes his weight down against me. “Dirty whore. Is this what you’ve been waiting for?”
I feel like I’m drowning under his bulk, unable to move, unable to breathe. Panic constricts my lungs, but somewhere deep in my mind, I remember Rhett’s lesson.
Off balance, wriggle, create space.
My hands go to Lucian’s hips and buck my hips as hard as I possibly can. He gasps and lurches forward, then lets out a roar as his head collides with the wall.
I wriggle out from underneath him, climb to my feet, and turn for the gun. Too late. He’s already scrambling on the floor for it.
I duck my head and run from the room, sprint through the cabin, and burst out the front.
A gunshot goes off behind me, whizzing past my ear.
Pure panic sets in now, and all I can do is run as fast as my legs will carry me as he fires shot after shot. Concrete flies as a bullet strikes the concrete inches from my feet.
I don’t even know where I’m running. Just anywhere. Away from him. Away from my past. Away from the bullets.
A car careens around the corner, headlights shining brightly on me.
Lucian fires another shot, hitting the car. I can’t see the man behind the wheel, but he must have the window open because I hear him bellow.
CHAPTER 32
RHETT
Iroar as the bullet takes a chunk out of my upper arm. Then I bite down, reality seeming to slow as the scene hits me fully.
Elle is running down the road in full panic.
And behind her, Lucian, a gun in his hand and blood running down the front of his face and onto his shirt.
I snarl as I wheel around Elle, then slam on the gas and drive straight at Lucian. He fires another shot, which slams into the seat next to me. The first bullet hole made a neat circle in the glass, but now it shatters, raining down on me.
The car bucks as Lucian slams into the hood, then there are three thuds as he rolls over the roof and lands in the bed of the pickup. I pull to a screeching stop, quickly climbing out with my gun in my hand.
Lucian is lying in the back, wheezing, one hand gripping his stomach as the other limply claws for the gun which landed on the other side of the pickup.
I aim my gun, ignoring the burning in my shoulder, ready to end this.
He opens his mouth, letting out a moan of pain even as his mouth splits open into a bloody smile.
“What a hero,” he grunts. “You better call your buddies, cop.”
“Not a cop anymore,” I snarl.
His eyes widen. “You’re not going to end me, Rhett. No fucking way.”
“No, he’s not.”
Elle walks up next to me, looking fierce even though she must be afraid at the same time after her ordeal. Her hair is disheveled and her clothes are a mess, but she looks steady and certain.
“He’s not?” Lucian says, then spits out a globule of blood onto the pickup’s bed. His finger is still twitching for the gun, but he doesn’t have the strength for it.
“Rhett,” Elle says, glaring at me.
I chew the inside of my cheek. I know I agreed to this, and we need to move fast. This is a quiet road, but there’s a small chance a car might drive past here and see what’s going on.
My shoulder twinges as I stare, the bullet graze burning. I don’t think my Elle has even seen that I’m wounded. Good. I don’t want her to worry about me.