Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107118 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 357(@300wpm)
Before I knew what I was doing, I shot off the bed and raised my hand to strike his face. Juan caught my wrist in his hand and began to squeeze. I cried out, my body buckling under the pain. He brought me to my knees, exactly where he liked to keep women. His eyes flashed. He spun me around, and I cried out when the back of my dress was ripped in two. I cried out as his finger traced down my burns . . .
“You defied me,” he said as he laid me on my front on the small bed. I was shaking as he rubbed his hands down my wrists. And then I jumped, panicking, when two cuffs were locked into place, keeping my arms strapped to the bed. I thrashed wildly, but Juan cut down my dress, exposing my back. I moved my head from side to side, trying to see what he was doing. Minutes passed, and I collapsed onto the bed, face to the side, chest and arms exhausted. I felt liquid hit my skin . . . then pain, so much excruciating pain that I screamed. Screamed so loudly that I heard people’s shocked murmurs coming from outside. I clawed at the bed, needing to move, yet every movement I made set my skin alight. I screamed until Juan crouched down, his face meeting mine. He ran a hand down my face as I cried out until my eyes felt like they would bulge from my head. As I took a breath, he said, “Try to leave me again, and I will douse you in this.” Tears poured down my face, my body beginning to convulse. My temperature plummeted as my body writhed of its own accord. I clutched the white sheet that covered the bed, trying to breathe through the pain.
He had ruined me.
He had ruined me so I would never leave him.
He had ruined me for anyone else . . .
His hand moved to my shoulder. His mouth came to my ear. “You had it taken off?”
The black rose. The brand he marked all of his girls with. Their brand, like a rancher brands his cattle. On his “girls” the tattoo was burned onto their hips. On me, he made it large enough and visible enough that everyone knew to whom I belonged.
“I wanted nothing of you left on me. Wanted no trace of this place . . . of the hell on earth you’ve created. Your empire built on pain.”
He lifted his eyebrows and then leaned in close. His hand traced my burn scars, then his nails dug in. I stifled a scream. I refused to give the sick fucker the pleasure of my pain. “Too late,” he whispered, and in the simple act of clawing at my desecrated skin, he reminded me how scarred onto my soul he truly was.
He got up and walked toward the door. “Where is she?” I demanded, swinging to face him.
He stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Around.” A wave of relief crashed through my body.
She was still alive . . . after all this time.
“And where is he?” My voice cracked.
Juan tensed and then came toward me. He crouched down, looking as impeccable as always. “Tell me, Sia.” His tone was cold and cruel. “You left me because you refused, as you put it, to be a criminal’s whore.” He left those words hanging between us, until he tipped his head to the side. “I have it on good authority that you are now whored out to two men, and bikers, no less.” As quick as a viper, Juan gripped my cheeks in his hand. I winced, crying out at the flash of pain that shot through my jaw. “Bikers, Sia . . . something you neglected to tell me you were a princess of, didn’t you, bella?”
I pulled my face back and spat in his eye. “As fucked up as they may be, as my family may be, they don’t deal in trafficking women. They don’t sell slaves for profit.”
“Just their sisters to a black bastard and a redneck who fuck each other as much they fuck you.” He pressed a bruising kiss on my lips. I pushed him back. “If I’d known what a slut you were, I might not have been so delicate with you.” He sighed. “It is something I will be taking full advantage of from now on.” He went to stand, but just before he did, he sliced the back of his hand across my face. My head snapped to the side with the force of the unexpected blow. I scurried off, afraid he would come for me again. “That’s for spitting in my face.” He walked away. When the door shut, I staggered to my feet. I ran after him, to the door I once escaped through.