Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160041 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 800(@200wpm)___ 640(@250wpm)___ 533(@300wpm)
“Let me fucking go, or I swear to God, I will kill you, Sam,” I roar.
He frantically searches in a drawer, and it feels ominous as fuck.
I have to free myself, quick.
I jerk the ropes and bite on the edges, but the knot is tied too securely. Fuck.
He returns with a syringe, and my eyes widen.
“What the fuck are you doing, Sam?!”
Oh fuck no, this isn’t happening. Not to me.
“It’s only for a while, until you calm down,” he says.
I kick and shove the blankets off. “Fuck no, get that thing away from me!”
But he grips my arm in the flurry of hate and stabs the needle into my veins.
Within seconds, everything becomes blurry. Numb.
And I fall into a dreamless, dark sleep that feels never-ending.
Every time I come to, Sam feeds me drinks and food and lets me use the bathroom, and I’m too out of it to realize what’s happening. He’s jabbed my body several times over the past few days. I don’t know how much time has passed or how many times he’s drugged me.
But I have seen the sun passing in the window.
I heard the chirping of the birds and the howling of the wolves in the woods of Priory Forest.
And I heard the people in the room next door, who were busy with the drugs, whispering about me.
But there was nothing I could do.
Nothing but wait …
Wait until Sam stopped drugging me and let me exist.
Only for a while, he said.
That was a lie.
Men.
Always the fucking lies.
When I finally wake up for real, I suck in the air and smell the scent of leather and … metal? I blink a couple of times to get my bearings, as my brain feels fried. For some reason … I’m in a car.
“What are you doing?” I mutter, trying to understand. “How did I get here?”
Sam’s behind the wheel. “I cut you free from the ropes and put you in my car. We’re going somewhere.”
“How long has it been?” I ask, completely out of it still.
“A week. Maybe a bit more.”
Fuck me.
“I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t think of anything else. I’m sorry, Sunny. But I can’t let you do this to me.”
I can’t even keep my eyes open.
“Look at us. We’re not parent material. We hang with criminals. You’re a killer, for crying out loud.”
My head is still pounding. It’s way too early for a conversation like this, especially after what he did to me.
“Is this … this is about the kid,” I reply.
I never should’ve gone to him. I never should’ve told him.
“What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to be happy about this?” He balls his fist. “No. I already made arrangements.”
I frown. “Arrangements to do what?”
He pulls something from his pocket, and before I realize what it is, he’s already jabbed it into my leg.
Not again.
The medicine instantly courses through my veins. Everything begins to spin, and I’m slowly getting dizzier and dizzier. I try to grab the door handle and press down, but I can barely move a muscle.
“Don’t try anything,” Sam says, starting the engine. “It’ll only make things harder.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Sam?” I keep jerking the door handle.
“I just gave you some more of the sedative, that’s it. Perry said it was totally safe, don’t worry.”
He’s insane. He’s fucking insane if he thinks he’s going to get away with this.
“We’re going to have to deal with this one way or another. I’m too young to become a father.”
I finally manage to get the door open, but my body flops out like a dead fish onto the pavement. I struggle to get away from him, but with every passing second, I lose more and more of my energy.
“Sunny, stop fighting, please. I’m only doing what’s right for both of us. You’re not equipped to be a mother, and we both know that. I can help you.”
That bastard!
“Get away from me!” I huff as I crawl across the ground, but I don’t think I get farther than a couple of feet away from the car before he’s already right there to grab me and haul me over his shoulder.
“It’s gonna be okay,” he says.
The loss of control—of my humanity—is what scares me the most. But the terror has only just begun, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
Nothing.
I have no clue where he drives me to, and I float in and out of consciousness every other minute. The only thing that registers is a grimy-looking building up ahead. Flashes of light flicker in front of my eyes as I’m put on a stretcher by a doctor and a male nurse. I imprint their faces in my mind along with the names on their badges. Carlo and Paul.
My muscles refuse to move, and my eyes can barely stay open. When I blink again, I’m in a room with bright lights and machinery all around. Another doctor stands in the corner with a syringe and a mask. I read his name tag. Mike Smith. He approaches me and places the mask over my face.