Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m going to handcuff you to the fucking bed and then I’m going to make sure you listen to me once and for all,” I grumble, hoping like hell this works.
I’m running out of options.
Chapter 23
Skylar
I somehow let him manhandle me onto the bed. I don’t make it easy for him. I kick and scream the whole way. I even manage a few scratches. I should have been able to get out of his hold, though. My dad taught me how to do that. Heck, Mattie did, too. Somehow, though, once Torin slapped the handcuffs on me, panic took over and training flew out the window. He pushes me down on the bed and flattens his body over mine, effectively stopping my attack. My heart is running away with me, and I’m filled with adrenaline—which is good. If not, I’d be enjoying the way it feels to have his body pressed against mine like this.
“Let me go,” I yell, concentrating as much as I can on my anger.
Instead of listening to me, he lifts my hands up and secures it to the headboard. How the hell did he do that? I twist my neck back to see if I can see exactly what he did. My arms are basically unmovable at this point.
“Peaches—”
“What did you do?” I snarl out.
I’m not looking at him. I’m too busy twisting my neck, trying to see what he has me hooked on. It’s not like he brought the chain over a post. The beds in the clubhouse here are just bedframes with a nice mattress on them. Back home, most of the beds are king-sized and I’ve spent my life trying to ignore why a lone biker would want a huge bed. I’m not stupid. I’ve just perfected the art of being clueless—at least on the surface. In hindsight, maybe that is the same thing as being stupid.
“I made sure I could talk to you without you running away,” Torin answers—still lying overtop of me.
My breath freezes mid-exhale as I realize there’s a fucking hook screwed into the wall. It’s not big enough to butt against the mattresses. It is, however, covered in some kind of thick, furry material. I suppose that’s a safeguard to keep it from puncturing the mattress, if things got too rambunctious in bed. I mean, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know the damn hook is so you can tie up your bed partner. Suddenly, I go from being sick to my stomach to feeling waves of disgust and anger rolling through me. I’m pretty sure I’m going to hurl.
“Let me up,” I whisper. I hate how weak I sound. I. Hate. It.
“You’re not going anywhere. We’re going to have this out, Skylar.”
Tears sting my eyes as another wave of disgust moves through me. Visions of Torin in here with Debbie and others assault me. “Let me up,” I beg again.
“Not till we get this settled between us. I told you before and I don’t think you grasp it, but I’m not letting you go. I’ve wanted you for too damn long.”
“It’s all about you, isn’t it?” I scream at him. “You decide I’m too young, so you treat me like shit after showing me a glimpse of something beautiful. You decide you can’t be the man I should have, so you cut me up into little pieces and leave me to bleed. You decide you want me, and you go about getting what you want, no matter how much I say no. It has nothing to do with me. It’s all about the fucking almighty Torin!”
Tears are falling fast. I can’t stop them. My vision is blurry, while my insides feel raw. It’s like every second that I’m lying on this bed is one step closer to death. I’m lying tied to Torin’s bed—not because I’m me, but because I’m just another woman that he wants to stick his dick into.
“You are important. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Skylar. You’re the only thing in this fucked up world that does matter.”
“Liar!”
“I’m not!” he finally growls back, losing control. For some reason that brings me comfort. I want him to be as upset as I am.
“Then prove it!”
“I’m trying, Peaches. Fuck, just tell me what I need to do here.”
“Let me up!” I barked again. “I don’t want to be in this bed tied to a fucking hook like so many of your whores before me!” He stares at me in shock—not responding at all. Mostly, he looks like he can’t believe what I just said. “Let me up, now!” I order at the top of my lungs, pulling against my restraints.
“Fuck, baby, stop. You’re going to hurt yourself,” he says worriedly. He reaches up, pulling the cuffs from the hook. I try to stop crying. It mostly works now that I’m not lying on this damn bed. He reaches into his pocket and then, with a flick of his wrist, the handcuffs are off. I immediately stand up, rubbing one of my wrists. It doesn’t really hurt, but I am close to falling into panic. This gives me something to do with my hands. “Are you okay?” he asks. He takes my hands into his, turns them and begins rubbing my wrists himself. I try to hang on to my anger and pull my hands away. Torin doesn’t let me. Instead, he brings them to his mouth and kisses each wrist.