Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
It doesn’t make any sense, and no matter how crazy it sounds in my head, I would rather have Xander Rossi here with me than be by myself. I’m pretty sure he wants me dead, yet I feel safe with him for some reason. Maybe safe isn’t the right word… less afraid might be better.
Walking back to the bed, he pulls up a chair and sits down next to me. “I already told you, no one will harm you here. You are completely safe within these walls. I’ll stay until Quinton gets here, but remember… don’t make me regret this.”
I won’t. I want to say it out loud, but my tongue feels heavy, just like the rest of my body. My eyes flutter closed, and I’m pulled back into darkness, only this time there is no pain.
I have no idea how long I’m out—could be minutes or hours—all I know is that when I open my eyes next, it’s nighttime. The room is mostly dark, the only light coming from a dim lamp sitting on the nightstand. My eyes focus on a picture frame next to it. It’s an image of Quinton with Adela and Scarlet. They look so… happy.
I stare at the picture for a minute before I start to wonder again how I ended up here. This must be Quinton’s room. I’m in his bed, hurt, but I don’t know why.
My mind is hazy, and I can’t recall any memories of what happened. The last thing I remember is being at Corium… hanging out with Brittney…seeing Anja in the elevator. After that, everything starts to get confusing. An image of Lucas kicking in a door pops into my head, then I suddenly remember getting on a helicopter. Was I in a crash again?
I feel like I’m at a beach, and all my memories lie beneath the sand. I’m trying desperately to uncover them with my hand, but every time I reach one, another wave crashes onto the shore, adding more sand and washing away the work I’ve done.
Confused and desperate for answers, I groan in frustration. That’s when I catch some movement in the dark corner of the room. I freeze, panic clawing its way up my spine as I realize I’m not alone.
Squinting my eyes, I try to make out the ominous figure across the room. The outline of a tall man with broad shoulders comes into view as he takes two steps toward me. I want to sit up so I’m less vulnerable, but fear has me paralyzed, holding me prisoner in my own body.
He takes two more strides before he steps out of the shadow, and the light reveals his face.
Quinton.
I relax. Sinking back into the mattress, I exhale a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Quinton stops beside the bed, looking over me before sinking down to his knees.
Now that he is close, I can see how pale he is. Dark circles paint the skin below his eyes. His lips are chapped, his face unshaven, and his hair is unkempt.
“I’m so sorry, Aspen.” His low and raspy voice sounds just as tired as he looks.
“I don’t understand,” I whisper because that’s all I can manage. “What happened?”
“You had to leave Corium because of a gas leak. Do you remember that?”
Gas leak? Memories of waking up in the middle of the night pop into my head. Anja and I trapped, Lucas coming for us.
“Lucas took you home.” As Quinton keeps explaining, more memories resurface. The helicopter, the rental car, getting home, then…
“Matteo took you from your house…” My mind goes blank. As if someone has taken a spoon and scooped out all those memories from my brain. “He hurt you, Aspen. He hurt you bad.”
I remember waking up and being in pain before, but as I’m mentally checking where I’m hurting now, all I can feel is a dull ache in my lower abdomen. Only when I move my legs and try to scoot up a little does a more profound pain between my legs appear.
No. My eyes widen in terror. It can’t be… but one look at Quinton tells me all I need to know. Matteo took me; he raped me.
“I’m gonna make him pay for what he did. I’m going to get revenge for you and the baby.”
“Baby?”
“Did you know you were pregnant?”
Dumbfounded, I stare at him, now more confused than ever. By the time my brain has processed the words baby and pregnant, I’m faced with the unmistakable past tense of the sentence.
“I was…”
“Yes, and you lost it because of him,” Quinton grits through his teeth. For a long time, I was under the impression Quinton hated me, and maybe a part of him did, but nothing compares to the deep-rooted hatred in his voice now.
“I will find him, and I will make him suffer,” he promises me with a sinister glint in his eyes that makes my skin crawl. “I swear it, Aspen. I will get revenge, no matter the cost.”