Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“Why?” That mocking edge returns to his voice. “You prefer Russians?”
“I prefer to leave if you don’t mind.” I smile, putting my charming persona on display, along with my seemingly irresistible dimples.
It doesn’t affect the prick whatsoever. There’s no loosening of his gun nor any change in those unsightly dead eyes of his.
He cocks his head to the side, leaning so close that my nostrils flood with his revolting male scent, like amber with a hint of something woodsy. “Not before you tell me what you had in mind for Yulian.”
“Just some harmless fun.”
“No harmless fun includes drugging and cutting clothes.” His gun digs harder into my skin, the pain making me grind my teeth. “You know what I think?”
“Not interested. Thanks.”
He ignores my words and steps into my space. “I think you planned something disgusting.”
I peer down and pause. He’s half naked. He must’ve discarded the tatters of his shirt and is now only wearing black slacks. He’s tall with a couple inches on me and definitely broader. The snake looks menacing coupled with his mask, and I want to unmask him, too. To see the face of the man who dares to hunt me.
“Something that fits that grotesque personality of yours,” he continues, shoving his gun against my mouth.
I let my lips fall open so that he doesn’t break my teeth, all the while considering if my plan to die at sixty is that important, because I’m starting to think being shot would be worth it if I get to punch this motherfucker who called me grotesque.
Twice.
The muzzle of the gun rests against my tongue and he rams it farther until it slams against the back of my throat, and I stay calm as my breath is confiscated.
The surest way to start choking? Losing your cool—which is something foreign to me. It’s not even a thing I can pretend or mask.
“No gag reflex. Interesting.” His rough voice smothers the ringing in my ears.
And then something strange happens.
Those gray eyes? The ones that haven’t changed and resemble a dead person’s?
They’re not completely empty now. Something shifts, the slightest bit, and I see a flash of light. A gleam in the darkness.
It’s so fast and fleeting, I’d question my eyes if I had the ability to doubt myself.
“But do you know what’s more interesting?” He pulls the gun from my mouth and taps it on my lips, smearing them with my own saliva, then thoroughly wipes it on my shirt, close to my heart.
On purpose.
To make me see that I disgust him, hence the excessive wiping, and he’s doing it near my heart so that I know he could shoot at any second. He even has his finger on the trigger.
Sick motherfucker.
He’s proficient at messing with people and pushing their buttons, it seems. If it were anyone else, they’d be trembling at the very least and begging to be released at most.
Too bad for him that I don’t do that.
But he better watch his back after I get out of here.
“Want to know what’s more interesting?” he asks again with his gun to my throat.
“I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”
“Such a little brat.”
“Oh my, what gave me away?”
“Watch it.” He presses the gun in further, and I swallow because it’s blocking my trachea.
His eyes watch the movement, mechanically, like I’m a boring game, before sliding back to mine. “You’re not fighting. Why?”
“If I do, will you let me leave this tiresome event?”
A dark chuckle spills from him. “No. But it might make the event less tiresome.”
“That’ll only be possible if you tell me what you want.”
“What makes you think I want something?”
“Surely you didn’t point that gun and play a whole intimidation game for nothing? That’d be an epic waste of your time, and mine.”
“Wasting both our time is the last thing I want.” His gun skims my belt at the same time as he stresses thing.
I grow still.
It couldn’t be.
My fingers start to wrap around the gun, but he slips it out of my hand and jams it against my head. “Touch it again and I’ll spill your brains on the floor.”
“It’s not a shotgun. No brains will be spilled.”
“You believe yourself to be funny?”
“No, I just dislike inaccurate information.”
His gun slides down again, this time over my belt, and my hand twitches, but I don’t reach for it.
Instead, I say in my clearest voice, “Stop.”
“A word Yulian wouldn’t have been able to say if you’d had your way with him.”
I pause.
Was that anger?
Hatred?
Both?
It’s the first time I’ve heard any emotion in his voice and it’s because of…Yulian?
What is he? His boyfriend?
I didn’t know Yulian swung in that direction. Maybe he plays for both teams?
“How far did you plan to go?” The man slips the gun beneath the waistband of my jeans, the tip grazing my stomach.
“I said. Stop.”
“And I asked you a question.” The tip of the silencer trails down to my groin.