Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 66960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66960 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
When I awake again, it feels like it’s only been a second, but there is no way that is possible. Warmth blankets my body, and I want to snuggle deep into it. I wonder why I’m unable to move or speak but can’t communicate my fears.
After what seems like an eternity, I am finally able to peel my eyes open again. I blink a few times, making sure I’m really awake now and not still in limbo. My surroundings become clearer with each blink and then I suddenly see the person sitting in front of me.
“Welcome back to life, little mouse.”
For a long time, I just look at him. I’m still trying to put all the pieces back together.
How did we end up in this moment? I feel like I am missing part of the story. Unable to connect from offering him my body for survival to him caring for me in his bed. Something must have happened in between those two events that I don’t know about.
“Why?” It hurts to speak but I ask the question anyway.
Xander’s brow furrows in confusion as if he doesn’t understand what I am saying. “What do you mean why?”
I try and say something else, but I cannot get the words past my lips. Xander passes me a glass with water in it, and I take it into my shaky hands. As soon as it touches my dry lips, I swallow it down, drinking from the cup greedily until Xander pries it from my grasp.
“That’s enough. You’ll get sick if you drink too much, too fast.”
I nod in understanding, placing my hands in my lap. I realize then as the soft sheets move against my bare skin that I am, in fact, completely naked.
Did we? Did he? My mind is a mess of thoughts, but I’m certain I’d remember if we had done anything to that extent. I lift my gaze to his. He’s watching me again, his face void of emotion, and I wonder why he does that. Hides his emotions from the people he’s talking to. Maybe he thinks he’s safe that way? I don’t really know, but when it comes to understanding others, I always try and read between the lines, and reading between the lines is the only way I think Xander can be understood.
“Why did you care for me?” I finally ask.
Xander smirks. “There is no way I was going to let you die before I got to claim your virgin pussy, Mouse. Good pussy is hard to come by now a days.”
My cheeks heat immediately. He cannot actually mean that, right? He didn’t save me just so he could fuck me.
“I don’t believe you,” I blurt out, feeling hurt. I remember his lips on my forehead, his voice a beacon of light in the darkness.
Xander smiles, and it’s sinister, sickening, and suddenly I wish I never asked him why he saved me. “How do you know I didn’t already fuck you?”
“Because you’re not that vile of a monster.” I regret the words as soon as they’re spoken. In a second, Xander is above me, his hand wrapped around my throat. Fear spikes deep inside of me. Had I just fought an infection only to die because I can’t keep my mouth shut?
Xander leans into my face. I can smell him; his scent surrounds me. His mouth is inches from mine, and I consider what may happen if I were to kiss him, but the thought slips away as soon as he starts to speak.
“I’m every bit as vile as my father, and I’ll do to you the same fucking things he will. Don’t think that just because I saved your life that I want you around for more than a hole to fuck. You’re nothing, Mouse, nothing but a place for my dick.”
I feel my lips trembling, and tears blur my vision. “Okay,” I whisper softly, all while knowing deep down inside he has no idea that I heard his words, that I know how he truly feels. That his voice brought me out of the darkness and back to harsh reality.
In an instant, he’s off of me and pushing from the bed.
“Our agreement is still on. I’ll give you twenty-four more hours to gain your strength but that’s all the mercy you’ll receive from me.”
I don’t understand the hot and cold he gives off. I know he wanted me to live. I heard the anguish in his words, but now that I am awake, he seems angry, as if he had hoped that I wouldn’t make it.
“You could’ve just left me to die. You didn’t have to put all this work into it,” I whisper, pushing up on the mattress, trying to right myself into a more seated position while pulling the blanket up and over chest. I feel something pulling at my arm and look down to see what looks like a spot for an IV that must’ve been put into my arm.