Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Oh fuck, no,” I panic, frozen to the spot.
Another BANG sounds through the door, and when the flimsy wood begins to splinter, I’m thrown into action. I lunge for the phone on the kitchen counter, my hands scrambling to scoop it up as the door finally gives in.
Pieces of my front door go flying through my apartment as three masked men storm in. A piercing scream tears from the back of my throat as I make a break for it, gripping the phone as I race through my too-small apartment.
They storm after me, their shouts of ‘get her’ turning my blood to ice as my fingers desperately try to move across the screen, knowing there’s only one man who could possibly help me now.
I somehow manage to get the call to connect, and just as it rings once, the phone is viciously stolen out of my hand as a vise-like grip circles around my arm, yanking me to a stop so hard, my shoulder joint almost dislocates.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Over my dead body, bitch,” a sickening tone spits as the call disconnects, and they throw my phone across the room, shattering the screen against the hardwood floor.
There’s something familiar about his voice, but as the other two men close in on me, my fight-or-flight instincts kick in. I bring my knee up with every ounce of power I have, slamming it right into the asshole’s junk.
He roars in agony, immediately dropping to the ground and releasing the death grip on my arm, giving me mere seconds to spring back into action.
With the other two blocking my only two ways of getting to the door, all I can do is aim for my bedroom, and I sprint toward it as fast as humanly possible, my bare feet pounding against the old rickety floorboards.
Racing through my bedroom, I sprint toward my window in a last-ditch effort to save myself, hoping like fuck my new security team is downstairs and somehow able to save me, but hell, if I have to throw myself from the third-story window just to escape, I will because I’ve been here before.
I used to see the best in people, but not anymore. I know what the kind of men who break into women’s apartments want, and I have a good fucking idea where they plan to take me, and I refuse to go back there or be treated like some whore who can be sold to the highest bidder.
I’d sooner die than have to face that bullshit again.
“FUCKING GET HER,” the asshole nursing his balls roars just as I reach the window. My hands shake on the locking mechanism, and as I tear it open, I peer out into the street, preparing to scream for help when I see Travis lying lifelessly on the sidewalk, a pool of deep crimson blood beneath him.
His partner is motionless in the driver’s seat of the SUV, but if the shattered windshield is anything to judge by, it’s safe to say he’s gone, and I’m out here on my own.
The dread is like nothing I’ve ever known, and as my heart beats right out of my chest, I realize I only have one option left—I have to jump.
Tears fill my eyes as I frantically haul myself through the window, but a bruising grip closes around my arm and tears me back. “Too fucking slow, bitch,” a gravelly tone spits into my ear as I’m pinned against a big body. “You’re gonna wish you fucking jumped now.”
“No. No. No. No. No.”
I frantically try to fight for my freedom. Kicking. Scratching. Clawing. Punching. Screaming. I try it all, but despite my every effort, I’m not strong enough. The third guy reaches me, and between the two of them, they tackle me face down onto my bed and painfully bind my wrists behind my back.
The tight rope bites into my skin, and as they grab hold of it to pull me up off the bed, both my wrists and shoulders scream for relief. I cry out in pain as I’m whipped around and shoved against the same big body. He grips my shoulders, and just as he goes to shove me to get moving, my bedroom door becomes crowded with familiar faces.
Sergiu.
Monica.
And fucking Derek.
“What?” I breathe, my chest heaving with heavy breaths as I try to understand the crooked smirk across Derek’s face. Why is he here . . . with them?
It doesn’t make sense.
Sergiu steps forward as Monica watches the show with a twisted look of obsession, but knowing the biggest threat in the room, I keep my stare on Sergiu. “He’s going to fucking kill you,” I spit through a clenched jaw, the anger and fear creating the worst kind of emotional storm within me. “And when he does, it’ll be brutal. You’ll fucking beg for him to end you, but he won’t. You’ll suffer the agony of a million deaths before he even thinks about finally ending your pathetic life.”