Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 677(@200wpm)___ 541(@250wpm)___ 451(@300wpm)
There’s no one close enough to hear me, but I scream my lungs out anyway.
I read somewhere once that you can’t always scream if stress puts you in a choke hold. That’s why people carry around whistles, I suppose.
Whatever the science—and I am stressed—I don’t have any problem making noise.
Piercing, earsplitting, eagle screech loud.
He swears and grabs my arms, wrenching them behind my back.
I throw myself down, resisting.
And I’d keep doing it, if only his boot didn’t find my stomach.
Blinding pain.
I hate it as much as I hate him because it smothers my resistance.
The next few minutes are a blur as he drags me through the house and out into the rain.
We almost trip over the limp, groaning body of Joseph Babin. He’s alive, but who knows for how long.
Even with my stomach in sick knots, churning, I don’t give up.
Raw, animal instinct takes over, fear and adrenaline swirling in a lethal cocktail until I’m acting on sheer impulse without any higher thought.
He’s taking me to the cellar, into the damp and darkness.
No!
I bite his arm. Claw at his hands.
Attack, attack, attack like a crazed wolverine, wherever I can find some skin to bruise or bloody.
I’m on the ground now, barely avoiding his feet as he tries to crush my skull.
Writhing.
Screaming.
His boot slams into my ribs and presses down, knocking the wind from my lungs.
Only when I’m truly cornered, that’s when I start begging.
It’s not a conscious decision, but it’s inevitable as he reaches down, growling, and starts lugging me toward the storm shelter again. I wonder if he saw me emerge earlier or if he found it when he came creeping around.
“Enough,” he snarls, digging his fingers into my arm.
Galaxies of nerves light up in agony.
“Stop, please!” I strangle out into the storm. My wet hair slaps my face, the wind tossing it into my mouth as I try to breathe. “Please, just let me go.”
“Shut the fuck up, little girl,” he snarls as he releases me with one hand to reach down for the shelter doors.
I take the opportunity to buck free. He curses as he catches my arm and swings me back around.
I collide with his leg.
Copper explodes in my mouth. I bite my tongue.
Between the blood and that savage kick to my belly earlier, I’m going to be sick.
Holy shit, can this get any worse?
“Knock it off. Get down there,” he orders, pushing me toward the steps.
Oh, God.
They’re still slick from the rain, and I almost slip, catching myself against the damp wall.
It’s the first time he’s let me have any space.
I’m not done yet.
I know I can’t beat him in a fight, not when I’m hurt and weakened like this, so I grab my phone.
There’s a call coming through and I swipe to answer as I stumble forward into the darkness. I mute it just in time.
Kane.
He must be worried sick, and he should be.
I want to cry with relief, but the second I hear his voice, Lee will know the cops are on their way.
Still, I press the screen against my chest so that square of light doesn’t give me away.
Lee has his own flashlight, and he slams the door behind him, shutting us both in the killing darkness. The storm’s roar dims.
There’s something glinting and metal in his other hand—a gun?
Not that surprising, really, even as my bruised stomach drops to my knees.
I don’t know why he didn’t use it before, but there’s no denying this could get really messy, really fast.
I regret answering Kane’s call now.
He can’t help me with this, and all I’m doing is luring a selfless single father to his death.
Fresh nausea flips my stomach over.
“Please.” I turn to face him again.
“Shut it,” he growls, walking toward me.
I disconnect the call a split second before my knees buckle and I’m dry heaving.
Miraculously, I don’t vomit.
God, I need air.
My breath comes too fast, too loud, echoing in the small space as he marches down the steps toward me. His gun points through me, aiming at my future grave down here.
“You finally get it out of your system?” We lock eyes. “Not another peep from you, princess. I don’t have the time or patience. You’ve made me very late.”
It’s the way he stares at me through the shadows, I think.
Those eyes, they aren’t human.
They’re so empty.
Seriously, how can this be the same guy who flirted with me? Who sold us his lovely plates and mugs we’ve used for meals?
Why has he gone total psycho?
“Please,” I whisper, my voice cracking pathetically. “Please, don’t—”
His gun comes up to my face and clicks.
I wince.
“Maybe you didn’t hear me when I said ‘shut it’ before?” He bares his teeth. “Since you’ve insisted on being part of this, Miss Blackthorn, I’ll let him see you alive again. But only if you’re silent.” He glances down to where I’m still clutching the phone against my chest, and his expression hardens. “And you’ll hand that over. Right now.”