Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70651 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Her screams and Dragon’s vicious growls have me retreating far inside my mind, where I don’t have to face the fact I’m weak and caused all of this. Rocking in place, I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my ears.
I can’t listen to him rape her.
I can’t.
One of her screams pierces my peaceful sanctuary, drawing me back to the horrors in my present reality. Stupidly, I chance a glance into the cage.
I’m met with the harsh aftermath of what my sister endured for me.
Naked.
Her bared ass splattered with semen.
Destroyed at the hand of that monster who lies beside her, face up and panting.
“Brav-fucking-o,” Night Giant says, clapping. “The viewers loved that shit.”
If we make it through this alive, I’m not sure how my sister will ever forgive me. I know one thing’s for sure, I’ll never forgive myself.
And, given the opportunity, I’ll make Dragon pay for what he did to her.
Dragon
Several Months Later - June
I can’t sleep.
Not since my last stint with Night Giant. When he forced me to…
Black. Black. Black.
All my rage swirls into a storm cloud of fury that successfully blocks out my memories. My nightmares might continue to haunt me, but when I’m awake, I’m in control.
I’ll always be in control.
Night Giant won’t ever get the opportunity to touch me again.
He might still walk the streets, but one day soon, I’ll make him pay. I want it to be perfect. The monster doesn’t know he’s going to be in my biggest show yet.
I’m the fucking star.
He created me, so it’s only right he gets to see the final production. To be a leading role, this time in my show. I’ll make sure he feels every single ounce of pain and shame he caused me since I was just sixteen years old.
My chest aches when I think back to that day I was so brutally stolen from my life. Sometimes, Mom’s face enters my dreams. Sometimes it’s Dad. The only time tears fall is when I think about them.
My brothers.
I try not to check in on them, but it’s my guilty pleasure. Seeing my three younger brothers grow into brilliant, successful young men gives me a sliver of peace. I doubt I’ll ever show my face to them again, yet seeing them feels like I can steal tiny memories of a past that was once good.
Katana, sensing my dark mood, crowds closer. If it weren’t for him saving my ass over a decade ago that night in the dumpster in Memphis when I was a traumatized eighteen-year-old, I would’ve probably ended up right back with Night Giant. I owe Katana my life. I owe him everything. He might have divulged to Koyn and the others my past, but it was only because he wanted to save us. I’ve forgiven him for it.
“It’s a wedding, dumbass. Put your phone away,” Stormy gripes, her pregnant ass trying and failing to steal my phone.
“Your hillbilly wedding’s over. You did the duck walk in your pretty white dress and ate cake. Leave me alone.”
She rolls her eyes that are painted heavily with mascara. Her stomach is fucking huge. Won’t be long and we’ll be adding another kid to this crew.
“I don’t walk like a duck,” she argues. “Dickhead.”
I smirk because she so does walk like a duck. “When are we having real food? I’m fucking starving.”
“Bermuda is barbequing chicken. God bless that hot boy’s heart.” She winks at me, the jagged scar I gave her stretching as she smiles. “Save me some drumsticks or so help me there’ll be hell to pay.” She smacks my stomach, nailing me with her big-ass ring.
“Why are pregnant women so bitchy?” I mutter to Katana as she walks away.
She flips me off and he shrugs.
My grin fades away when I see him. Baby Prospect. Standing at the edge of the woods, just beyond where we held the wedding, his hands stuffed in his jeans’ pockets, frowning at the ground like it personally wronged him. For a soft fucker, he pouts like a big-ass prick like Koyn. Must’ve got that attitude of his from his bitchy big sister.
One of the other guests, a Fed named Nick Carmichael who Copper is buddies with, walks over to Cove. Cove’s body tenses as the man speaks to him. Too close. Katana touches my back, dousing the sudden roaring raging fire inside me.
“What?” I grumble.
“I don’t like that guy,” he mutters.
They’re the only words of confirmation I need before I’m flipping open my knife and stalking over to the two men. Nick sees me first, his eyes widening in fear. He holds his hands up in a placating way. When Cove sees me, his blue eyes flash with anger.
Toward me.
Fuck you, Baby Prospect.
“Time to go, Robin,” I snap, putting my body between Nick and Cove. I glower down at the shorter male version of Stormy. “Now.”