Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 114551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
I nod, understanding exactly where he’s coming from. “I get it,” I tell him, hating that we’re in this predicament at all. “But for what it’s worth, I do see you as one of my heroes. You and the boys, you’re all bigger than life, and I’ve been so lucky to be the one you’ve all allowed to get close.”
“No, Pretty. We’re the ones who have been lucky. You came crashing into our lives right when we all needed you most. You’ve saved us each in our own way. I don’t know where Dalton would be. He was heading down a bad path, seeking out fights like some kind of violence junkie. He’d be dead by now, and Sawyer? Fuck, after everything that went down with his father and then Cara, he would have crumbled and turned to alcohol. His temper would have been his downfall, but you were there to bring him back.”
Warmth spreads through my chest as I worry my bottom lip, hating that I can still taste the blood in my mouth from being slapped. “And you and Zade?” I prompt, his words soothing something within me.
“He’ll deny it, but you’re forcing Zade to remember that he’s still human. You’re challenging his every belief and forcing your way into his heart. You’re making him feel, and honestly, I think it’s terrifying him. As for me, I was hollow before I met you. I had the boys and Venom, and the darkness of my life was consuming me. I didn’t care if I lived or died, but you . . . you’re giving me something to live for, and I can’t bear the thought of never having that.”
A tear rolls down my cheek as I hold his stare, a lump forming in my chest. “Is it wrong of me to be so madly in love with you all?”
“No, Pretty. There could never be anything wrong with that.”
I pause a moment before meeting his stormy gaze. “I’m not ready to die, Easton,” I tell him. “I still have so much I want to do, and with you guys . . . this can’t be the end for us.”
“I know,” he tells me. “We’ll find a way.”
“Assuming we’re getting out of here, of course.”
“We are,” he throws back at me. “This isn’t the first dungeon I’ve been chained up in, and it sure as fuck won’t be the last. The boys are coming for us, so you need to switch over to survival mode because the second they get here, you need to be ready to fight. You’re going to have to put all your morals aside and do whatever it takes to survive. You hear me?”
I nod, swallowing over the lump in my throat. “I hear you,” I tell him, as a loud clanging comes from outside our fucked-up little dungeon. My eyes widen, fear blasting through my chest as I hold his stare, knowing that whatever is about to happen could be the end for me.
“They’re coming,” Easton says, his voice calm and prepared. “Don’t be scared, baby. Keep your eyes open, count the people in the room, take note of who has easily accessible weapons, and always search for the closest exit in every room. If they separate us, all I need you to do is stay alive. I will find you. I promise you, Pretty. I’m not going to let you die here.”
I nod just as the door pulls open and the room fills with men in tactical uniforms, their faces covered. They swarm me, reaching for my binds and unchaining me before letting my body fall heavily to the ground, scratching up my knees and palms.
They’re relentless, grabbing at me and starting to drag me toward the door. “EASTON?” I scream, hearing him thrashing against his binds.
“You’re okay, Pretty,” he says, his voice so clear over the rapid beat of my heart in my ears. “Just remember what I said.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“What do we do with this one?” I hear one of the uniformed men ask as my body is dragged across the uneven, hard ground, tearing up my skin in the process.
I try to fight them off and free my arms, but there are too many of them, and all I’m doing is wasting what little energy I have. I need to be smart with this, need to conserve what energy I can and use it when it matters most.
I hear Santos through the chaos. “Bring him too,” he says, a smug tone in his voice. “He can watch.”
Shit.
I’m dragged out of the room before I can see if Easton is actually freed, but I hear the sound of a scuffle and know, despite the pain he’s going through, he’s doing his part in evening the playing field. I just hope it doesn’t cost him his life.