Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
I couldn’t talk if I wanted to, and by the time he releases me, I’m left gasping for breath. He isn’t about to take any chances, apparently, because he retrieves a piece of cloth from one of the desk drawers and stuffs it into my mouth.
There’s a knock from down the hall, and Slick disappears while I try to figure out what to do. It’s still early. Conor hasn’t been coming home until late. I have little faith that he’s home now, which means Archer is alone. And even if Conor’s house is secure, it doesn’t mean Slick won’t find a way in.
Tears stream down my face as I batter my body against the chair, desperate to free myself. But before I make any real progress, Slick returns with another man in tow. The guy is younger, and he shares the same features as the older version. Father and son.
The newcomer lets out a low whistle, and Slick smacks him on the back of the head. “Don’t get any bright ideas. She’s mine.”
Slick’s son rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Sit down and watch her,” Slick commands. “Don’t move. Don’t call up your buddies or watch TV on your phone. If she makes any noise, choke her until she shuts up. It’s real fucking simple, okay? Now can you do that?”
“Sure,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m not a fucking idiot.”
“I’ll be back in an hour tops,” Slick says. “Don’t fucking touch her. I don’t want your sloppy seconds.”
He disappears down the hall, and the younger guy smacks his lips together before offering me a lewd smile. “The old man is a pain in my ass sometimes, but he sure knows how to pick em’.”
I spit out the handkerchief and force myself to stay calm. This guy is dumb, just like Slick said. Maybe I can work him. It might be the only chance I have to get out of here.
“I’m Ivy,” I tell him. “Who are you?”
“Tut, tut.” He shakes a finger at me. “You aren’t supposed to be talking, are you?”
I shrug and force a smile. “I just figured you wouldn’t mind.”
“Well, maybe I do, maybe I don’t. And the name is Ronnie, if you really want to know.”
His eyes rake over my body, and he makes a show of adjusting the erection in his jeans. He’s already thinking about what he wants to do to me, and the thought makes me sick, but that’s my opportunity, and I exploit it.
“It seems like your dad doesn’t have a lot of respect for you,” I observe.
His eyes narrow, and I can tell I’ve hit a nerve. “Don’t talk about what you don’t understand. Fucking women, thinking they’re all psychologists or some shit.”
He paces around the room, lights up a cigarette, and glances at me with every pass he makes.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” I say. “I was just thinking, if I had to choose between either of you, I’d much rather have you.”
“Oh yeah?” Ronnie smirks. “And why’s that?”
I shrug. “You’re good looking. You seem like a nice guy. So far you haven’t smacked me around or choked me.”
His eyebrows pinch together. “Yeah, you’re not in for a treat if you don’t like the rough stuff. That’s all the old man likes.”
I cringe, and I can’t hide it. Ronnie looks sympathetic to my plight, for all of two seconds. “I wouldn’t mind having a taste of you.” He blows out a puff of smoke and then extinguishes his cigarette on the desk.
“What’s stopping you?” I ask him in a soft voice. “He doesn’t have to know.”
Ronnie shakes his head. “Can’t. The old man would kill me.”
But I can tell he’s still thinking about it. And when he pulls out his phone and checks the time, I think he might really take me up on it. At least if he unties me, I’ll have a shot at fighting him off. I might lose, but I have to try.
That’s my plan until Ronnie blows it up by heading for the door. “I have to make a phone call. I’ll be right down the hall, so don’t even think about moving.”
He disappears and doesn’t go far, judging from the sound of the porn I can hear playing on his phone while he jerks himself off. It’s disgusting, but I’ve never been more thankful for such a pig. Hopefully he’s not a two-pump chump.
I work my chair closer to the desk and snag the rope against the edge in hopes of loosening or fraying it, but it’s not working, at least not fast enough. The anxiety is building in my chest, and I’m on the verge of panic as Ronnie’s one-man sex show rises to a crescendo.
But something else catches my attention, and it gives me an idea. Ronnie left his cigarettes and lighter on the desk. It’s risky, but it’s the only hope I’ve got.