Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Isaac licks his lips and glances me over, like he’s sizing me up. He orders me to step away from him, move farther into the room, to the foot of Zane’s bed. I obey, and when I’m where he wants me, he says, “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I look to Zane, whose eyes are shooting daggers at Isaac.
Maybe this will buy us some time. Or get him to let his guard down enough that I can at least make a go at him.
Or it will just end as it’s most likely to end.
I remove my shirt and toss it on the bed.
Isaac’s gaze travels over me; it’s as though it’s burning into my goddamn flesh.
Goose bumps prick across my arms as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
He licks his lips again and approaches.
“Now your pants.”
I can’t do this and look at Zane.
This can’t lead anywhere good, but I remind myself that if he approaches me, this might give me the opportunity to gain the upper hand.
I unfasten my belt, unbutton my fly, and pull my pants down. Once I remove them, I pull them up to my waist, sliding my hand in my front pocket for my pepper spray.
Isaac walks toward me. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”
A chill runs up and down my spine, my fingers tickle the end of the bottle, but I remain still to keep from rousing further suspicion.
“You know I meant your briefs too—which I like, by the way.” He snatches the pants from me and tosses them in the nook beside the bed.
There goes my pepper spray.
Fuck.
My stomach churns.
“Sorry, I’m shy,” I say.
He steps even closer, and I notice Zane in my periphery.
He’s moving. What’s he doing?
I refuse to look since I don’t want to draw Isaac’s attention to whatever he’s attempting.
Isaac presses the gun between my pecs, runs it down my torso.
My stomach clenches. I feel fucking sick, and I’m sure the only reason I’m not vomiting right now is because some part of me realizes that could be the difference between life and death.
As the head of the gun touches my belly, near my navel, I’m shaking.
“Take. Them. Off,” he says softly.
I feel a rush of determination. I’m probably about to die, but that was probably how this was going to end anyway. I take my chance, moving fast, seizing his armed hand and dragging him to the floor with me. I’ll keep the gun out of his reach if it fucking kills me, but suddenly I feel something press against my shoulder blade, followed by a jolt of energy rushing through me, my body vibrating.
As I lose sensation in my limbs, I barely have a chance to process what’s wrong before I’m releasing the very thing I shouldn’t have let go of under any circumstances.
I collapse on my back, my muscles twitching and spasming as I see Isaac with the gun in one hand and a stun gun in the other.
“Feisty,” he says, his lips curling into a smirk before he turns the gun on me again.
A growl comes from behind him, and Zane jumps up, throwing his arms, still locked together, over Isaac’s head, clamping them back quickly as he puts Isaac into a chokehold.
Zane must’ve shimmied his wrists down and pulled them to the front.
Isaac pulls the gun back, aiming it at Zane’s head.
“No!” I call out just as I hear a click.
I wait for the explosive sound of a bullet firing and anticipate the horror of having to watch my Zane endure the brunt of it.
But there’s only that click.
Isaac’s eyes widen as he pulls the gun back and fires again. Still without success.
Is it empty? Is the safety on?
Whatever the hell is wrong, I struggle to my feet to help Zane, fighting against the echoes of Isaac’s attack that still reverberate through me.
By the time I’m up, Isaac’s thrown the gun to the floor and raises the stun gun, pressing it against Zane’s neck.
Zane rears his head back, releasing another muffled scream as I reach Isaac, seizing his arm and pulling the stun gun away from Zane, who still seems to have a good grip on our attacker, Isaac struggling for air.
I manage to pry the stun gun from his grip, and he collapses on top of Zane, crushing him beneath his weight.
Zane still has his arms locked around Isaac’s throat, choking him. Isaac’s face is bright red as he struggles in the hold, thrashing about. By now it’s apparent he’s not fighting anymore; these movements are his body’s last incoherent attempts at surviving before he goes limp.
His eyes roll back before closing. His limbs relax beside him as Zane studies him, checking to ensure the deed is done.
A rush of visceral relief moves through me.
It’s done.
Isaac’s unconscious.
And Zane is safe.