Series: Unhealthy Obsessions Series by Sam Crescent
Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 170(@200wpm)___ 136(@250wpm)___ 113(@300wpm)
He got onto the ground floor, and as he did so, he was able to glance through the small piece of glass that showed the main club. It was dirty, but the lights were on, and in the far corner near the bar, he saw several women. A couple were bleeding, and he spotted Guy as well. He didn’t look good. It appeared both his eyes were swollen shut and several teeth were missing. But what fueled Evander’s rage more than anything was the sight of Callie, kneeling on the floor, blood trickling from her mouth.
He didn’t even need to see who the man was. That sight alone fired venom through his veins, and his temper went into overdrive. Someone had taken his woman, lured her here to get to him, and he didn’t even need to get the answers to know this is exactly what had happened.
Anger unlike anything he had ever felt consumed him. It was burning, twisting in his gut, and he just saw red. In all his life, he had known control. Everything was about timing and precision. He had known the value of keeping his cool.
When the bastard reached out and grabbed her hair, twisting it in his fist, making her face contort, Evander didn’t hesitate. He reacted and charged into the room.
He had no way of knowing who was where, or what the real situation was, all he saw was his woman being hurt, and his need to protect her took over.
Chapter Ten
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When was she going to trust her instincts? She knew something was off when Violet came to her apartment. At the very least, she should have told Evander where she was going. As soon as they got to the club, the truth was obvious. Everything was a trick to get her to the club. She wasn’t sure why at first until she heard the men talking.
They wanted Evander. He didn’t know where she was, so they couldn’t hurt him. That was one consolation for her miserable predicament. There was a small army of thugs hiding in the back rooms. She counted at least nine of them, but only two stayed guard in the main club with them.
The one with the beard seemed to get a thrill from hurting her, but she refused to cry and give him the satisfaction. Inside, she was a mess, barely holding onto her sanity. She felt the heavy weight of hopelessness crushing down—not just for her, but for everyone, even Guy. This was so unfair.
Callie had never really thought about life and death much. Life was a game of survival and she was only twenty-one. However, being held against her will by such ruthless animals sent a new kind of fear and desperation racing through her nerves. Her body shook as if chilled but it was only the fear threatening to take control.
“Are you okay?” whispered Leah.
Callie nodded. The asshole had punched her right in the jaw when she initially fought back. She hadn’t tried again. No one had ever hurt her like that before. She’d been sitting quietly ever since, too afraid to make waves and test how far they could go.
Even now she tasted her own blood in her mouth, but she didn’t feel the pain. Not with so much adrenaline flooding her system.
“Shut up over there.” One of the men guarding them stomped over and kicked Leah where she was sitting so she toppled back.
“Leave her alone!” Callie shouted, the weight of fear suddenly lifting as she worried for her older friend. “She didn’t do anything!”
“Brave now, are you, little bitch? You’re lucky he wants you alive.” He grabbed her hair in his fist, making her eyes water. She winced but refused to cry out. Then he attacked her, the weight of his body crushing the air out of her. Everything was a blur. She fought back, struggling to push him off her. Instead of fighting, he only rolled to his back. Completely still.
Callie sat up and noticed the stream of crimson blood leaking out from under his head, making her scurry backward with her hands and feet. When had he hit his head? Did she do that?
“Is he dead?” She wasn’t sure if it was a question or not. Nothing made sense, especially when the door from the back room opened and the sound of gunshots echoed in the large bar. She put her hands over her ears.
“Over there! The back stairs!” one of the men from the larger group yelled to the others, gun in his hand as he rushed past them. She was grateful their attention was on something else.
The lights flickered from their heavy footfalls, but the electricity had always been in bad shape at the club. The old disco ball over the stage swung as the men ran around, the glittered light highlighting the madness.