Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
He turns and looks over his shoulder at a man standing a few feet away—a man I didn’t even notice was inside the room until. I eye him cautiously. He’s similar looking to the man in front of me.
They both have the same striking eyes and olive skin color, and then there’s the height and weight they carry. There forms are so similar, I consider the fact that they may be related. They exchange a silent nod, then the man with the kind eyes turns his attention back to me.
“You don’t look like you’ll be able to walk far, so I’m going to carry you.” He doesn’t ask for my permission, or even give me a chance to respond. He just slides his arms beneath my body and lifts me into the air.
My own arms lay awkwardly against my stomach as he holds me to his chest. A chest that’s warm and inviting. A chest I want to burrow my face into. I can’t take my eyes off his face. There is something about him that grabs a hold of me and refuses to let go. His beautiful gray eyes are what got my attention first, but from this angle, all I can identify is his strong, masculine jawline.
My eyes roam over his manly features, his full lips and high cheekbones. There’s an arrogance about him, but it doesn’t ooze from his pores. His nose has a crook in it, as if it’s been broken a time or five, and he has a few scars on his face.
I’m only vaguely aware we are walking out of the cell when he stops dead in his tracks.
“I’m going to need you to close your eyes. There are things in here you can’t see,” the other man orders from beside us. The unknown man tilts his face down, and my eyes meet his. There’s a story behind his eyes. I get the feeling that maybe he’s broken too—broken just like me.
“Can you do that? Can you close your eyes for me?” His voice engulfs me like a warm blanket. I nod, letting my eyes drift closed.
The world goes black around me, but despite that, I feel safe. I turn my face into the man's chest. He is warm…so warm. His shirt is soft. He smells good, like fresh linen mixed with some expensive cologne. We walk for a while, the sounds of their heavy footfalls bouncing off the walls. We start going upward, and I start shivering when cool air licks my heated skin. The man cradling me holds me even closer, and I take the moment to push my ear to his shirt, right over his heart. I take comfort in the sound of his heartbeat. It’s so soothing, the swooshing of the blood as it moves in and out.
The sound of car doors opening meets my ears right before my body is jostled as he sits down. His grip never loosens on me, and I’m thankful for that—thankful for the peace his presence brings me.
No one can hurt me with this man by my side, I just know it. I keep my eyes closed. When I’m almost asleep, the small jolt of the car coming to a complete stop wakes me. The engine is turned off, and the doors open. Then, I’m being carried out, whisked away to somewhere unknown.
I should open my eyes. I should take in my surroundings, but the world is much more peaceful with my eyes closed. I’ve seen it with my eyes open, and I’d much rather view it through closed eyes now.
“You can open your eyes.” The nameless man’s voice is low, husky even, and there’s something about it that calms me...that shuts down every irrational fear.
I do as he asks and open my eyes, even though I don’t want to, not really. As soon as they’re open, I’m looking right up at him. His features are slack, and he seems more relaxed than he did back in the cell.
“What’s your name?”
“Sophie,” I whisper, my voice so small, I’m not even sure he heard me.
“I’m Roman,” is all he says before heading down a long hallway. He brings me to a bedroom door. He opens it, and for a moment, I’m scared of what he might do to me. Not once did I second guess where this man was taking me or what he planned to do with me, and that was stupid of me to assume he won’t hurt me the same way my parents did.
It’s his job. It’s why I was brought here, right? To be broken, raped, forced to do whatever I’m told to. I can’t picture the man holding me doing any of those things, though, and the fear fades away when he places me on the bed, pulling a huge quilt over me.