Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
I’ve never in my entire life begged my father for a single thing, but I will do it today if it means I can save Bel. He stands proudly like he’s won the battle. He has no fucking clue that this war has barely begun. "Fine, if that’s what you want. Deal with her, but I expect her to be out of the building and away from here in the next ten minutes. That, or she will be coming back to the main house with us. There is plenty for her to do there.”
I nod and turn my attention to Bel. Her face is a mask of confusion and hurt, and when she looks up at me, those two emotions morph into something softer, sweeter, something only she shows me. I hate that hurting her is the only way to protect her, but it’s what must be done. Someday, she’ll understand. I know she will.
Leaning forward, I skim a finger across her cheek and down the side of her neck. She trembles, her eyes darting between my father and me. I’m sorry, Bel. I’m so fucking sorry. I can feel my father’s gaze hot on my back. He’s watching every move I make, and I need to make this as believable as possible.
When she nuzzles her face against my hand and relaxes into my hold, I slice my fingers through her hair and twist her long braid around my fist. Then I slip the mask of fury and rage into place. “What did I say about minding your own business, wallflower?"
Her eyes are frozen lakes of fear, and I think—no, I know this—this is how he will break me for good.
CHAPTER 36
BEL
His hand tightens in my hair, and I jolt. This isn't like it has been in the past. This fucking hurts. My entire scalp is on fire. I claw at his hands, but his fist is anchored in my braid like a fucking vise. "Let go of me.” I whimper. “I only came here to help!!”
He leans in closer, his swollen face giving him an even dark edge. "What the fuck makes you think I need someone like you to save me? You're nothing."
His words sink through the painful haze, and I drop my hands. Yes, he can be mean, a downright dick at a multitude of times, but he's never been this cruel. Even at his most rageful, there have always been cracks of light shining through in the darkness. There’s always been a softness that he seems to carry just for me. I’m so confused. His friends tell me it’s all an act, but this isn’t an act.
"I don’t understand what’s happening…"
He grabs my chin with his other hand and clenches my jaw shut, and I swear I see a flicker of guilt in his eyes before the rage overtakes him. "Shh...when I ask you to open your mouth, it will be for me to put my cock in it, and that is it. Do you understand?”
One of the goons behind us snickers, but I can't move. Hell, I can barely breathe as I stare up at the cold, hate-filled rage in Drew's eyes. This can’t be real. He’s acting again. I can’t truly believe this is how he’s felt all along. I think back to the times he's shoved me away, keeping me at arm’s length, refusing to let me get too close. The way he used my body and walked out that last time. It makes sense, and the pieces align perfectly, but my heart, it doesn’t want to believe it.
"No." I hate myself for how small that protest sounds. "No. You’re lying. I know you care about me. I know I’m more to you than this."
His grip grows tighter, and it feels like he's going to rip my hair out of my head. A scream rips from my throat, and I claw at his hands and kick at his legs, but he's had practice fighting off women in his precious psychopath games, so I’m easily subdued.
"Not so fast. You're staying right here until I say you can fucking go."
I shake my head, the terror inside me ramping up with every second that passes. This isn't him. I refuse to believe it. He told me everything at these parties is an act. Is that what he's doing? Acting the part to keep his father from doing worse. That’s what this is. It has to be. The thought gives me a glimmer of hope. A useless, mostly guttered thing, but I've lived on less.
"Stop, please. Don't do this, Drew. You’re more than this. Don’t become your father."
He sneers, and there's not a hint of the man who drove me up sheer cliffs of pleasure and threw me off, only to catch me at the bottom. This isn't him. His face moves closer to mine, and even though I want to push away, I can’t move. His lips are so close to mine, I could touch them. I look into those emerald depths and see nothing of the man I’ve come to care for. The Drew I caught glimpses of is nowhere to be seen. It’s almost as if he never existed at all.