Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“Make one sound and I’ll find out where you live, come in through your window, and really do some damage.”
God, was the frat-boy appearance just a cover for his psychotic nature? But no way in hell I’d take his threat seriously, even if he meant one word. This would be my only chance to get help. Because even if I did nothing, he’d still destroy me.
The car was a good ten feet away, the headlights shining right on us, the vehicle just idling now. It seemed like forever before the sound of a door opening and closing came louder than the rush of conversation from the club goers just around the corner. And then I heard feet hitting pavement in an easy, relaxed pace; then the sight of a large body—very large—came into view. I could only assume it was a man, given the size. He stayed behind the lights, the shadows wrapping around his tall frame.
He stared at us for long seconds, and for some reason all I could do was stare right back. I started to struggle. I caught the asshole holding me off guard and managed to push him back enough that his forearm was no longer pressed painfully into my throat. I sucked in oxygen, sweet, life-sustaining oxygen. My throat burned, and a flush stole over me, the pain of being able to breathe again claiming me.
“You fucking bitch,” the asshole next to me hissed.
And then there was the sound of another door opening and closing, of a gun being cocked. The shadowy man tipped his head to the side. It was the slightest move, but it caused whoever had just gotten out of the car to start walking toward us.
“The fuck?” the asshole pinned against me said in a hushed voice, his eyes squinted, the headlights blinding us. I feared the worst, thinking maybe I’d misjudged whoever had shown up as being able to help. Maybe they were worse than the fucker who’d attacked me.
And then the guy was pulled away from me, the sweet relief of his body no longer on mine urging me to run. But I was frozen in place, the dark shapes still covered in the shadows, the headlights still blinding me, making it impossible to see anything clearly. I rubbed my throat, the burn almost unbearable.
And then a body was thrown against the side of the building, and I realized it was the would-be frat boy. I stood there shocked, unable to move, as I watched a man approach. He was in front of the car, his body illuminated by the intense yellow glow of his headlights. But his face was still concealed. An air of danger came from this man like a punch to my gut. I sucked in more oxygen, this time not having anything to do with the fact I was struggling to breathe.
I stared at the man currently holding the asshole up against the brick wall by his neck. Whoever the man was, he was big, supporting another human as if it was nothing at all. I covered my chest, despite the fact that I was dressed. I was bared, like I was so open my secrets were exposed. When I glanced at the man who’d tilted his head, who’d sent his guard dog to do his bidding, I could feel his gaze on me. I might not be able to see his face, but I felt his eyes on me like fingers touching me, stroking me, holding me down.
And then my heart seized in my chest as I watched him lift his arm, the gun I’d heard being cocked most likely the one he held. He took a step closer, not to me, but to the body pinned to the wall. The guy was struggling to breathe, clawing at the grip the man had on his throat.
Just like me. A taste of his own medicine.
He kept moving closer to the man pinned to the wall, but I knew he watched me, knew he was calculating all of this. I thought I’d be able to see him when he moved away from the headlights. But once he was standing next to his partner or guard dog or whatever the hell the guy was to him, I still couldn’t make out his face. I knew I wouldn’t have known him anyway, but I wanted to look into the face of the man who’d saved me.
Saved me?
Yes, he’d saved me from a very dark hole, pulled me out so I could breathe again. But I now had this feeling, this sensation like honey on my skin, thick, almost suffocating me again, that this man was far more dangerous than anything I’d ever come across.
He said nothing, and the only sound that penetrated my foggy brain was of the man struggling, of his wheezes and gasps as he tried to claw at the hand holding him, keeping him up. I felt nothing, no sympathy for him, nothing but the need to see him hurt the way he’d hurt me. And then, my lungs clenching painfully with every inhalation I made, I watched the man push away his partner and take his place in front of Frat Boy. Instinct, survival told me to run, to get the hell out of here because this was going straight into hell, where the flames licked at me, threatening to burn me alive.