Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
I fight against the desire to roll my eyes.
Yeah, treat me better by breaking my bones and apologizing afterward.
"How can I believe that? You have me tied up like I’m some escape artist. It’s not like I can outrun you, and even if I did, where would I go? I have no idea where we are." I peer around the room, making note of each detail.
We’re in some type of a hotel, a cheap one from the look of the outdated manufactured wood furniture, the thin comforter on the bed, and the dull, worn carpet covering the floor. The room is probably ground level—in the event he needs to make a quick escape, I imagine.
He only shrugs his shoulders, his gaze roving over my breasts, and then lower. "Escape artist, no. But you do have a habit of losing your shit, so I figured this would be easier once you were awake. You have a hard time accepting the inevitable."
A phone chimes somewhere on the other side of the room. He pushes away from me and stands, shoving his dirty hair from his face while giving me his back. I sag into the bonds, my hands and my feet burning from the rope as I hunch into myself in an attempt not to fall apart.
I already know what’s going to happen. He's going to rape me. He's going to rape me, and then he's going to beat me when he realizes I don't enjoy his touch. It's how I always saw my end, but after Sebastian entered the scene I thought maybe I'd be okay. For once in my life I felt safe. Protected. I thought maybe it was possible.
There's a murmur, and then Yanov stalks back over to me with his phone on speaker. "No, I have her right here. She's safe enough."
He stares down at me, his thighs too close, his free hand reaching out as if he's not quite sure where he wants to touch me yet.
The voice on the other end of the line makes my blood run cold. "And she better stay that way until I arrive. We have business to discuss.”
My father. The police chief of Oakmount. The only man with more power than some of these rich assholes running the school and the upper classes.
Whispers of safety flutter hopefully in my mind. He's going to win. He always wins. When he sold me to pay his gambling debts, I thought I was free. Even belonging to someone else, I might have had a chance at escaping, but the chance is blown to pieces if he gives me to Yanov.
He'll chain me to the floor like a dog and never let me go.
I don't hear the rest of the conversation, thankfully; my brain is too worried about how the hell I’m going to get out of here. Unfortunately, the reprieve I get while he’s on the phone ends, and as soon as he’s finished talking he crouches in front of me again.
"Come here, Ely."
He scoots forward and wraps his arms around me, pressing his scratchy bristled face into my chest. I’m rigid as a board, trying not to breathe the smell of stale alcohol and sweat wafting off of him too deeply.It envelops me, though, and I shudder, trying not to puke.
"Ely. Ely. Ely. Ely." He says it over and over like a prayer. I cringe inwardly, hating him for making the name ugly again so soon after Sebastian made it his.
It feels like an eternity before he finally releases me. I curl away from him, into myself, wishing I could cover more of my body. I’m still only wearing Sebastian’s football shirt and a pair of panties. No amount of clothing will ever be enough to make me feel safe in his presence.
"I’m going to untie your hands, but you have to promise you’ll be a good girl. No funny business, Ely.” He glares at me, but doesn’t wait for me to respond. Leaning forward, he rips at the bindings. Once my hands are free, I slowly pull them forward and cradle them in my lap. There’s nothing else for me to do. I can’t move, not with him so close.
My only hope now is when he falls asleep…maybe I’ll be able to escape then? It’s a slim chance but one I have to take.
I try not to flinch as his hands skim up my thighs, nor when he pries them apart. A scream builds in my throat. His penetrating gaze feels like a weight crushing down on my chest. I force myself to look straight ahead, at the wall over his shoulder so I don’t do anything to get me killed. He’s a ticking time bomb. And when he explodes, everything and everyone in his path is destroyed.
"Look at how pretty you are."