Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I lean in, reaching down and lowering my face to hers, watching as her eyes fill with uncertainty. As my nose brushes across her skin, she sucks in a sharp breath that tells me exactly what I already know. She may have run from me for all these years, but I never lost her. She’s always been mine. That’s the pact we made in high school, and I intend to hold her to it.
My hands slip around her toned waist, and as my eyes come back to hers, I can’t help but grin down at her, my lips only an inch away. “Gladly, but you’re coming with me.”
With that, I haul her out of the trunk of Sebastian’s beat-up car and turn on my heel. Roni struggles over my shoulder, kicking and screaming as we approach the door to our little underground bunker. No one can hear her out here, and the thought brings a laugh rumbling through my chest.
My hand smacks down over her firm ass, holding her still so that she doesn’t fall. “Welcome home, baby.”
CHAPTER 3
RONI
Nic throws me down on a shitty little bed that feels like it was made out of concrete, and I stare at him in horror. What the fuck is this? Is this the moment that I’m going to be tied up and used as his personal sex slave?
I’ve been working as a therapist and a guidance counselor for nearly eight years. While I’ve never met someone who’s been used as a sex slave, I’ve certainly talked to girls who have suffered at the hands of rape, and I don’t know if I’m strong enough to make it out the other end if that were to happen.
“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” Nic snaps in disgust, turning away and walking back to the door to grab my suitcase and handbag. “Who the fuck do you think I am?”
I scoff, unable to keep the accusatory, sarcastic tone out of my voice. “Is that supposed to be a trick question, or do I need to remind you that you broke out of prison less than four hours ago? You’re a fucking murderer. You killed my father and my boyfriend. Your rap sheet is a million pages long, and you have no issue barging into my home, knocking me the fuck out, shoving my ass in a trunk, and kidnapping me. So, you tell me, is rape something I need to be prepared for? Because I honestly don’t know anymore.”
Nic glares at me, his jaw clenched as anger pours through his eyes, but he can’t deny that I’m right. “You better watch your fucking tone,” he snaps, striding toward me and making me catch my breath. He grabs my shoulders and throws me back on the bed, coming down over me so that his face hovers just above mine. “When I fuck you, it’ll be because you fucking begged me for it. Because it’s the only thing you can think about, because you craved it, needed it so fucking bad that you couldn’t even think straight. You’re going to be screaming for more and loving it. Is that clear? I might have done some fucked-up bullshit over the years, but I’m no rapist and you fucking know it.”
I swallow over the lump in my throat, unable to respond. Not because I don’t know it, but because any sound that comes out of my mouth is going to give away the fact that his closeness already has my body screaming for him. That’s a whole can of beans I’m not prepared to spill just yet.
Nic’s dark, haunting eyes narrow, not moving an inch from mine as he breathes heavily, almost as though our closeness is affecting him just as much as it affects me. “I said, is that fucking clear?” he growls, not prepared to let it go unanswered.
I give him a short, sharp nod and finally take a breath of relief as he pulls back from me, taking that intoxicating scent with him.
He’s a fucking maniac. I should be terrified. I should be searching the room for a way out, but instead, I'm too busy focusing on him. He’s the definition of toxic, and I shouldn’t be so attracted to it. Something has got to be wrong with me. Maybe I was wired wrong or dropped on my head as a baby because this is some seriously messed up shit.
Nic takes a look around what I assume is his new home on his way back to the door. He pulls it open and grabs my bag before hauling it inside and dumping it on the dirty floor of the bunker. I watch him through a sharp gaze, studying his every movement, still fearing for my life.
What the hell is this? Does he think I’m just going to stay here while he hides from the law as some kind of house bitch? Fuck that. I’ll be out of here the second he turns his back. I won’t let him pull me down like he did in high school.