Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
All kinds of yucky things could happen if his wound isn’t treated properly and quickly. It only takes a few hours for an infection to set in…
Fuck, he of all people should know this!
Simon’s eyes glimmer with amusement. “Trust me, Andrew is a professional. Besides, we still have unfinished business to see to.”
“Unfinished business?” I repeat.
What could there possibly be left to do?
All traces of amusement fade from Simon’s face and it feels as if all the warmth is sucked out of the car as his expression grows cold. “A message must be sent.”
Just hearing those words come out of his mouth thrusts me back into that bloody scene in the basement with Matthew all those years ago.
No. No. I’m not going through that again.
“Pull over the car, Matthew,” I order, jerking away from Simon.
Matthew shakes his head and I swear he hits the gas. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, Meredith.”
“I don’t care,” I find myself saying again. “You can get one of your men to take me back to Simon’s.”
“All the men are currently occupied with other, more important, matters,” Matthew smirks.
“Then I’ll fucking hitch a ride,” I hiss.
Matthew’s eyes meet mine in the mirror and his smirk sharpens. “Even if I were inclined to put you in such a dangerous position, do you think anyone would pick you up looking like that?”
I glance down at myself. My blue dress is absolutely ruined. My stockings are ripped to hell and back. One of the heels on my shoes is cracked and could snap off at any second. I’m covered in blood and other things… Things I rather not know the origin of.
My head throbs, pulsing behind my eyes, and I’m pretty sure I have a huge knot on my forehead from where that asshole cracked me with the butt of his rifle.
He’s not wrong but he doesn’t have to be so fucking smug about it.
Whipping my head towards Simon, I resort to pleading. “Simon, please. Drop me off at the house first, then take care of whatever business you have to see to.”
Simon stares at me for a long moment and I think he’s about to give me exactly what I’m asking for, but then his eyes fill with fire. A fire that scorches my heart.
“No. At this time, I don’t think I could bear to be separated from you, princess.”
Fuck. He’s really going to do this to me… He’s really going to make me relive my worst nightmare.
Reaching out with his good arm, he grabs me by the wrist and yanks me closer until I’m tucked against his side.
I feel his lips brushing across the top of my head before he murmurs quietly. “It will be a long time before I let you out of my sight again.”
No matter how hard I beg and plead, Simon stands firm in his decision to keep me beside him.
The car ride to wherever they’re taking me is long and torturous. Not only is all the shit that just went down replaying in my head, but I’m also having flashbacks of the past.
I hate Asad, hate him with every fucking fiber of my being, but I don’t want to watch him get tortured.
By the time Matthew pulls the car up in front of what looks like an abandoned warehouse, I’m ready to puke.
“We’re here,” Simon says quietly as Matthew shuts the engine off. “Open the door, princess?”
Shaking the tendrils of the past from my head, I look at him. Really look at him. If I forgive him for what he’s about to do, wouldn’t that make me a huge fucking hypocrite? Wouldn’t I have to forgive Matthew too?
“The longer we linger, the longer until I’m treated,” Simon reminds me.
“Fuck,” I curse out loud and shove the door open.
I slide out and then offer Simon my hand. He accepts it gratefully, and only grunts half a dozen times as he exits.
As Simon steps into me, leaning his weight into me, Matthew comes up and shuts the door for us.
“This is going to fucking suck,” Simon says, eyeing the distance between the car and the warehouse.
I laugh. I fucking laugh. Yeah, I’m losing it.
“We can always turn back,” I suggest. If only I could be so lucky…
Simon’s jaw tenses with determination. “It’s too late for that.”
He takes a step forward and I have no choice but to move with him. Slowly, but surely we make it up to the door of the warehouse. Matthew moves ahead and holds the door open.
I can’t even look him in the face as we step past him. After all, this is all his doing…
Inside the warehouse is exactly what I imagined. Old, forgotten machine equipment. Years of dust and dirt that floats up into the air as soon as our footsteps disturb it.
What I didn’t expect though was how much the concrete floors and walls remind me of the basement.