Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 214(@200wpm)___ 171(@250wpm)___ 143(@300wpm)
“Chances of him surviving are—” I croaked, but she cut me off.
“I know,” she said softly. “They’re slim to none. That’s what I said, too.” She set the brush on the counter and began to braid my wet hair. “How much do you know of Tank’s past?”
I frowned, meeting her gaze in the mirror again. What did his past have to do with any of this? “I know he was… he went through what I did for fifteen years.” That fact still turned my stomach. How did a kid survive that kind of shit for fifteen years? Tank didn’t even seem the least bit traumatized. There were absolutely no signs.
Adelaide nodded. “He did. He belonged to the same family that took you. Despite what we know he has to be enduring right now, this works in our favor. It means they’ll want him alive. He was the one who got away. The one that got free. And if they kept him personally for fifteen years, he was valuable to them.” All of this was turning my stomach, making it slosh, but I was also clinging to her words with both hands, hoping she was right. That he would be alive. That they wouldn’t kill him. “River is betting that he’ll be alive when the club finds him.”
My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, hot tears streaking down my cheeks. Bringing my hands up to cover my face, I sobbed, curling in on myself. Adelaide sank to the floor beside me, wrapping me in her arms, my braid abandoned. This was the first bit of hope I’d had in over twenty-four hours, and it was as helpful as it was destructive. Because even though he was alive…
He was, more than likely, suffering greatly.
“He’s going to be so hurt,” I sobbed.
“I know,” Adelaide whispered, gently rocking me side to side, her arms banded tight around me. “I know, hun. But he’ll be alive. And just as he’s helped you and Beck, I know you two will be there for him, too.” She cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her eyes, and stroked her thumbs over my cheeks. “The only thing we can do for him right now while the men work on finding him is be strong. Strong for him. Can you do that with me?”
I sobbed again but nodded. “I’ll be anything he needs me to be,” I croaked.
Adelaide smiled. “You’re so perfect for him.”
My own tiny, trembling smile tilted my lips, too.
24
Tank
Everything fucking hurt. I was soaked in my own blood, and bruises littered my exposed skin. My dick was raw, my balls fucking ached from how much I’d been forced to cum, and my ass was brutalized. I’d been ripped open, and I knew I was bleeding from my rectum. I needed a fucking hospital—not the bullshit medical care they were giving me. I wasn’t being given time to heal, and pain medicine wasn’t going to fix what they were doing to me.
They were torturing me just enough to nearly kill me, but they refused to toe that line too much.
I clenched my teeth when the woman’s dry pussy slid down my cock again. Staring up at the dark, moldy ceiling, I forced myself to breathe deeply, doing my best to ignore the pain. A low growl of pain rumbled in my chest when she dug her fucking nails into one of the many open wounds on my stomach, scooping up blood to use as lube.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“You used to be such a talker, sweetheart,” she murmured. When I didn’t respond, she gripped my chin, her sharp, claw-like nails digging into my skin hard enough to make me bleed. I blankly stared up at her, refusing to give her anything. It would only please her.
I wasn’t that scared little kid anymore. I wasn’t desperate to please anyone. I wasn’t afraid of death.
At this point, I was welcoming it with open fucking arms.
Carter had informed me two weeks had passed. Two weeks of being tortured. Of being raped. Of being fucking brutalized.
Two weeks that they also hadn’t gotten their hands on Beck and Clarke because my family was protecting them. And every goddamn day, they punished me for it, but I welcomed that with open arms, too. I’d endlessly suffer if it meant they always remained safe.
She snarled and slapped me hard across the face. I worked my jaw around, my skin tingling, heat blooming across my cheek. I snarled when she dug her nails into an open wound on my chest, ripping the skin open further. A string of curses lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I sank my teeth into the flesh hard enough to make it bleed.
I wouldn’t speak, no matter what the fuck she did to me. I hadn’t spoken since my first day here, and it was driving them nuts.