Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 70779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Still feeling shaken, I went to get the broom and dustpan…only to see someone standing in the narrow hallway that led back into the small apartment behind the shop.
“Oh my God!” I whispered, taking a step back from the shadowy figure. Had I forgotten to shut the back door? Then I remembered—I had left it ajar on purpose in case I had to run from anyone who might have come in during the night. I’d meant to go right back and shut it if the shop was empty but then I’d gotten distracted by Mr. Joe.
Then the man stepped out of the shadowy hallway into the light.
“Hey, babe,” Carlo said, grinning at me. “I thought you and me could have a little reunion.”
15
KAEL
Istirred restlessly, my wings rustling with my movements. I felt strongly that something was wrong with my Mistress—but she had yet to call on me. I wanted badly to go to her but I had to wait.
The cruelty of the protective curse laid on me was that however much I loved the woman I was protecting, I couldn’t go against the words of my key-holder. I couldn’t go to Willow unless I knew for a fact she was in danger or unless she called me.
Call on me, Mistress! I thought, aching to hear her voice. Call me and I’ll come to you!
But though I strained with all my being, listening for the sound of my name on her lips, I heard nothing.
16
WILLOW
“Carlo? What are you doing here?” I demanded, taking a step back from him.
“Just came to say hi and see how you’re doing, babe,” he said. As he spoke, his smile broadened and his eyes narrowed.
From years of studying his face and reading his moods for my own self-preservation, I knew what that smile meant. It meant he was feeling cruel—like a cat that enjoys playing with a helpless mouse and I was the mouse.
“I’m just fine,” I said briskly, lifting my chin, trying to be businesslike. “So thanks for stopping by but I have to clean up and get the shop open now.”
But of course it wasn’t that easy to get rid of my ex.
“I don’t understand why I let you go, you know that?” he asked, ignoring everything I’d said and coming closer. “I remember what a great fuck you were.”
“I’m not your wife anymore,” I reminded him tightly. “Where’s Josh?” I asked, hoping that maybe his partner could rein him in.
Carlo shrugged.
“He’s back at the PD, doing paperwork. He doesn’t even know I’m here—he thinks I went out for a coffee.” He smirked at me. “But then I thought of something hotter and sweeter.”
Suddenly, he was on me, his meaty hands biting into my upper arms as he pushed me against the wall.
“Hey! Let me go!” I gasped, twisting and struggling.
“Don’t think so, babe. See, I think you tricked me somehow.” He glared down at me, his black eyes narrowed with suspicion. “I think you or your Pop-pop put some kind of witchy spell on me to make me forget you. Why else would I let a fine piece of ass like you get away from me?”
I began to feel panicked which was bad because panic makes my brain go numb—especially when it comes to my ex.
Psychologists say there are three responses to trauma and danger—flight, fight, or freeze. Being near Carlo made me freeze.
During our marriage, running from him never helped—he just caught me and hurt me more. And the few times I’d tried to fight back he had nearly killed me—it enraged him when I refused his advances in any way.
I wanted to push him off me as he dragged me to the floor, but my body didn’t seem to be my own. I could feel my mind floating away, going someplace safe where no one could hurt me and what happened to my body didn’t matter.
Assholes who don’t understand always ask rape victims why they didn’t fight more—why they didn’t shout or hit or bite. It’s because some of them can’t—some of them freeze. It’s not something you choose—it’s what your body does to survive.
It was what my body was doing now.
I could feel Carlo fumbling roughly between my legs but it seemed like something that was happening to someone else, far, far away. I tried to fight the cloudy unreality that was closing in around me but I couldn’t shout or scream—I could only whisper.
“Go away,” I said in a soft, barely there voice. “Go away—I hate you!”
I wanted to shout it but I couldn’t manage more than a murmur.
Carlo heard it though. He stopped fumbling for a minute and grabbed me by the neck. Squeezing hard, he glared into my face.
“Hey, you bitch!” he snarled. “You don’t talk to me like that! You’re mine—I fucking own you. And don’t fucking forget it!”