Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83519 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Hope that I realize is false washes over me before I can even consider how to shove it back down. Sadness leaks from my eyes as I turn my head away from him. Mistaking him for someone he isn’t is so fucking dangerous.
“Lauren? I asked you a fucking question.”
I shake my head, sobs bubbling out of my throat. Hope is such a cruel fucking thing.
“Look at me when I speak to you.” A rough hand grabs me by the jaw, forcing my face in his direction.
I know I should keep my eyes closed, but instinct has me facing my attacker.
He doesn’t fade away. Angel doesn’t disappear, doesn’t transform into a monster.
“Angel?” I swallow down another sob. “How?”
I try to shake my head, but his punishing grip on my chin prevents it. He’s forcing me to see that it’s him.
Anger swarms around me before settling so deep inside those hidden parts of me, I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to dig them out.
“Fucking untie me,” I demand. “Right fucking now.”
His laughter is somehow both welcome and the cruelest thing I’ve ever heard.
I struggle against my restraints, the burn of the ropes on my skin, sweeping down my arms like wildfire.
He doesn’t speak, doesn’t reach for the ropes.
I expect him to walk out when he releases my face, but he doesn’t budge from the edge of the bed.
“Why am I hooked up to an IV?”
His focus is on the skin on my shoulder, not my face, when he speaks.
“I’ve kept you sedated.”
My breaths are ragged as I try to understand exactly what he’s explaining, but it’s difficult. Whatever is in my system isn’t allowing me to think in a straight line.
“How long?”
“Ten days,” he replies, like it’s not a big deal to keep a woman tied down for a week and a half.
He’s given me more information than I think he realizes, but I’ve been in this situation before. I know exactly what it means.
The IV ensures hydration, meaning I’ve been pissing this bed the entire time. I can only hope my fucking bowels have shut down due to the narcotics those other fuckers were pumping into me, but it won’t stay that way forever.
He’s been taking care of me because I can easily tell I’m not lying here in my own fucking filth.
This enrages me more than anything else.
I don’t want to be fucking cared for.
“The other women?” I ask, because focusing on myself might invite in those pesky fucking emotions I haven’t been able to control recently.
I never want this man to see me as weak.
I watch his shoulders lift. “I gave them every opportunity to get away. No clue if they took it or not.”
Rage boils inside of me, but I shouldn’t be surprised he doesn’t give a shit about others. He’s no FBI. The man is a hired fucking gun. Green is the only damn language he speaks. The other women there aren’t his concern. I’m left wondering why he cares about me at all, but maybe that’s a mistake as well, because being naked and tied to his bed for ten fucking days doesn’t exactly spell affection.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snap when his finger trails over my shoulder and down my left breast.
I’m not surprised by the laughter that rumbles out of him, but I am worried about the way my body threatens to delight in the actual sound.
I don’t know that I’ve heard him laugh and the gravel of it affects me in a way I refuse to focus on.
I hiss in pain when he twists the tip of my breast between two punishing fingers.
“You seem confused, so let me explain it to you.” His face drops lower, mere inches from mine. “I fucking own you. I bought you with the deaths of three men.”
I’m only now realizing the depth of my depravity because a thrill at his words races up my spine.
“I was working,” I say on a gasp of relief as he releases my nipple, only to trail his finger further down my stomach.
He presses a rough finger into a sore spot on my hip, smiling when I try to fight the discomfort by not moving or complaining.
“I think you’re mistaken. Paperwork has been filed with the Bureau. Lauren Vos is not only no longer employed by the FBI, but she’s also actively being sought for crimes against the government.”
Knowing it was a possibility and actually hearing that those things have come to pass are two very different things.
“That means you either got yourself abducted on purpose without the backup of your agency or you were so distracted that someone grabbed you by surprise. Which is it, Lauren?”
I clamp my lips closed. He has no right to any explanation from me.
His eyes sparkle with mirth in the limited light as he watches my face. “There she is. I thought those men beat and fucked that spark out of you.”