Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Again.
And again.
Once the gunshots were over, it was quiet.
Except for Laura—who sobbed.
I yanked the rope free from my ankles and got to her as quickly as I could. I untied her wrists and ankles then pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it onto her exposed body, even though everyone except us was dead.
She moved into my chest and sobbed.
“It’s over, sweetheart.” My arms locked around her body like steel bars, and I held her. My chin rested on her head, and I felt the tears build in my eyes. They were hot tears, tears I hadn’t felt in over a decade. I didn’t let them fall. I blinked several times, forced them to dry, and pretended it hadn’t happened. “I’m here…I’m right here.”
22
LAURA
I didn’t speak for days.
Bartholomew relocated me to his apartment, and I spent my time barricaded in his bedroom, which was bigger than my entire apartment. It had its own sitting room with a TV, had a bathtub as big as a hot tub, a balcony that had a beautiful view of the city.
His butler brought all my meals, and I ate at the dining table, sometimes alone, sometimes with him there to watch me. I hardly looked at Bartholomew, and I wore his baggy clothes at all times.
He never left me.
Sometimes he would work from the couch, his laptop on his knees, taking phone calls throughout the day and night. But he never left the room. Whenever I showered, he never stepped into the bathroom, respecting my privacy.
He never spoke to me. Didn’t ask me a single question. He was the most intuitive man I knew, understanding I wasn’t ready to talk without having to hear me say it. He was patient, giving me everything I needed without instruction.
Finally, I found the words. “What happened…?” I sat across from him at the dining table, my spoon sitting in the bowl of soup I had hardly touched.
His elbows were on the table and he was about to take another bite, but he abandoned his utensils and his appetite to look at me straight on. “He’s the one who gave me the cut.” He moved his left arm, which now had a long scar that almost reached his elbow. “I should have killed him. I’ll never make that mistake again.”
“Why me…?”
His eyes dropped. “He knows I’m not afraid of pain or death. Hurting someone important to me is the only way to stress my pain receptors. Otherwise…I feel nothing.” He looked at me again. “I’m so sorry.” He’d probably never apologized for anything in his life, but he said the words with pure sincerity. “It’ll never happen again.”
“You can’t guarantee that.”
His eyes hardened. “Yes, I can.”
“Then why did it happen in the first place?”
“Because you lived elsewhere. If you lived under my roof, you would be untouchable.”
“Except when I leave to go to work or the gym…”
He took a breath, subtle restraint on his frustration. “I have men protecting me within a mile radius of every place I go. When you’re my woman, I would give you the exact same protection. Snipers in buildings. Men working at coffee carts with assault rifles stowed underneath. Eyes would be on you—always.”
“But this was one of your men. Not an outsider. So if that happens again, no one will know I’m in danger.”
He released another breath. “Sweetheart, I’ll work out the logistics later. But I will make it my priority to keep you safe. My number one priority—always.”
I recognized this feeling of numbness because I’d felt it before—when I was raped. It took years of therapy to recover, and now I was back to ground zero. It was more traumatizing than before, but it was a repeated offense. I’d known what would happen before it happened, like it was all in slow motion. “Bartholomew, I can’t do this. I love you so much…but I can’t do this.” I had no tears because I was incapable of feeling anything right now.
“Laura.” Now his voice was as hard as his eyes. “I will always protect you.”
“You didn’t protect me then.”
“Nothing happened. I stopped it from happening, and I killed all of them—”
“But barely. You didn’t have a plan. That chair could have been made out of metal, and the outcome would have been very different—”
“I would have found a way, Laura.” He tried to silence me with his angry eyes, but it wouldn’t work.
“Nothing happened…?” I asked, my voice quiet. “They held me down and stripped off all my clothes.” I kept my voice steady, but it wanted to shake. My eyes burned into his, wanting him to understand how horrible it was. “They flicked my nipples until I cried.”
He struggled to keep a straight face, but his shortened breaths gave away his anger.
“They pissed on me—”
“Stop.” He caved, his eyes severing contact.