Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“You’re turned on,” he states. Again, no smirk. I think he is, too. It’s making him as mad as it’s making me.
“Maybe I’ve been thinking about the dirty things your father is going to do to me before—”
“Fuck.” He steps back but only enough so he can press his hand against my mouth to silence me.
“Your mouth is going to get you into trouble.” He keeps giving me that warning. I lick his palm. He drops his hand with a grunt.
“I thought my mouth was part of why I was here.”
He might be right. I’m the one that’s going to get burned because I’m playing with fire. Sergei gets angry when I talk about his father. He tries to hide it, but I see the tic in his jaw when I bring him up.
“Come on.” He grabs my waist, jerking me off the counter.
With as hard as he pulled me off, I was sure he was going to let me just land on my feet, but he keeps a hold of my waist and slowly puts me down. My bandage remains firmly in place.
Sergei releases his hold on me, saying “Go.” He gives my ass a smack. I jump and dart out of the bathroom to get away from him. It wasn’t a hard hit. My dad does it to my mom all the time. She pretends to be annoyed by it, but I always see the small smile that plays on her lips.
A wave of emotion hits me again. Trash rubs up against my legs as I stand beside the couch. I bet my parents are a mess right now. And I don’t even want to think about the hell my brothers are raising trying to find me.
“It was a pat on the ass. You’re fine.” Sergei comes to stand in front of me again. I’m starting to think he enjoys being close to me. Sex, that’s what he enjoys. I bet he is trying to get his turn with me first. “Stop crying,” he orders.
I blink. I hadn’t realized I was. I don’t want to cry in front of him. Begging him to take my life was shameful enough.
“You can’t order someone not to cry. It’s an uncontrollable emotion.” I hate that I’m showing my vulnerable side to him.
“Everything can be controlled.” He grips my chin to make me meet his eyes. “Are you hurt somewhere else?”
“I’m crying. What do you think?”
“Where?” He steps back, his eyes roaming over me. I swipe the tears from my cheeks. “You’re fine.”
“Here, dummy.” I thump the center of his chest over his heart. “I hurt there.” His brows furrow together. “Right. You have no clue what I’m talking about because you Talettis don’t have those.” I roll my eyes. “I’m worried about my parents and sister. You know, those people that you took me from.” His confused expression is almost laughable.
“You’re worried about your family? You do realize that you were the one taken. Not them.”
“And I am thankful. If I had to choose someone, it should be me.”
“Why?”
“Why? Why do you care?” Shouldn't his questions be about details of my family's doings? Or how many men my father keeps on the grounds of our home?
“For once, can you answer a fucking question?” He barks at me, making Trash meow again.
“Fine, but stop shouting. You’re upsetting your cat.”
“He’s not mine.”
“What?” I bend down and pick the cat up.
“He won’t leave.” Right.
“I volunteer as tribute.”
This time he does smirk. “I thought you were glad it was you who was taken.”
“I am, but if you want someone to leave…”
“Why you?” he asks again.
“Who else? My pregnant sister? Who is having complications, not that you care.” God, I hope she is okay.
“One of your two brothers .”
“Your father into men?”
“That smart mouth is gonna be your undoing.” He shakes his head.
“He’ll need my brothers right now. I know they will mourn me, but I’m the most expendable.”
“Expendable?”
“As a Taletti, I’m sure you’re well acquainted with the word.”
“You're the one using it. They tell you that?”
“What?” I gasp. “My family is not like yours. I don’t know why you picked me, but I am grateful. Just sad because when I’m long gone from this world, they will have to live with the horrible guilt of whatever was done to me.”
“You are a little fighter, aren’t you? You really should be more scared.”
“I am. Terrified really.” I might as well tell the truth. I’ve already cried and begged, so there’s no use hiding it.
“For you or them?”
“Both.”
“You’re not acting like it.”
"‘I sustain myself with the love of family,’" I respond, my thoughts going to my dad.
“Maya Angelou.” He doesn’t miss a beat. Always surprising me. I have to admit he’s a lot smarter than I ever thought a Taletti could be.
Maybe I don’t really know who the Talettis are. Not Sergei Taletti, at least.