Total pages in book: 205
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 204377 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1022(@200wpm)___ 818(@250wpm)___ 681(@300wpm)
“Of course, you don’t. Monsters don’t worry about being monsters.”
“I’m an engineer. An inventor of exquisite closeness. A creator of love and unbreakable bonds.”
What the actual fuck?
Surrounded by shadows and uncertainty, the realization of how deep his madness goes feels impossible. Hopeless. “What’s your next sick creation?”
His eyes, a shade of gray that seems to swallow all light, fix on me with an intensity that makes my skin crawl.
“You call yourself a creator of love?” The tendons in my neck pull taut. “If you love your sons, let them go.”
“You need to rest,” he purrs, his voice a haunting melody that seduces and torments. “Sleep.”
“Please.” Tears blur my vision. “Let them go. Let me go. I won’t tell anyone about you.”
“Let you go?” He stands, rising above me like a harbinger of doom. “While you’re sick?”
With the smirk that follows, he lets me in on a secret.
He knows.
Fuck me to hell, he knows I’m not sick.
“I’ll check on you in a while.” He adjusts the blankets around my chin, tucking me in.
It’s a warm gesture. Kind even. Yet in the glide of his affectionate hand, I’ve never felt such dread.
For the remainder of the sunless day, I replay our conversation and everything I’ve learned about him, piecing together the tension I’ve felt brewing since I arrived.
There’s a change in the air. A change in him. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is coming.
Coming for me.
I may not be a prisoner in this room, but I’m a captive all the same. Wolf told me what to do. There’s nowhere to run, nothing to do but trust him, remain behind this door, and think.
I fight sleep by writing in the scrapbook, cataloging everything I know about Hoss and its residents.
That done, I hide the book and get lost in my head, fantasizing about escape, playing out scenarios where I fly away with Leo, Kody, and Wolf. With Leo piloting the plane, we explore the world, enjoy one another’s company, make love, and create a fantastical life together.
I don’t think about Monty.
Denver checks on me twice, and each time, I feign sleep.
He’s so thoughtful, so gentle, adjusting my pillow, refilling my water, and running a cool towel across my forehead to relieve my fake fever. In those moments, it’s hard to imagine him being the devil his sons make him out to be.
Still, I can’t let my guard down. Eyes on the door, I remain vigilant. I remain awake.
Wolf should be back soon.
At some point, late into the night, I can’t fight it anymore.
Sleep wins.
When I wake, my eyes burn. My stomach coils, and my skull feels like it’s stuffed with astringent-soaked cotton.
I remember this feeling. The heaviness. The confusion. The medicated languor of waking from a drugged-induced sleep.
“What did you do?” My words slur, tumbling into the air as I try to focus my blurred vision on the dark silhouette standing beside the bed.
“Don’t struggle.” Denver’s soft timbre shrivels my insides. “This will only hurt a little.”
The last time he said that I ended up in a crate.
As I open my mouth to scream, I’m met with a wad of fabric. He shoves the cool, silky material past my teeth, pressing it deep against the back of my tongue.
Then he lifts the blanket from my body.
A chill sweeps over me, invading my flesh. All of my flesh.
I’m naked.
No!
No, no, no!
This can’t be happening.
I swear on all that is holy, I’m going to kill him with my bare hands.
But my hands won’t move. They’re caught…
I blink furiously, clearing my vision and thrashing my drug-laden head.
I’m restrained.
My arms.
My legs.
Tied to the bed, I’m spread like an X, legs open, head propped up on a stack of pillows, every inch of me bared for his slimy eyes.
Denver drugged me.
Stripped me.
Bound me.
Gagged me.
I know what comes next, and the realization tears through me with the force of a hurricane.
“I know you’re not sick.” He leans over me, his voice a sinister slithering over my skin. “The poison left your system two days ago.”
My lungs collapse.
Poison?
“I couldn’t let you leave on that hunting trip.” He straightens and drags his gaze down my body.
My breath explodes in rapid bursts, heaving past my nostrils.
What did he give me? When? How did I not notice it?
Then it dawns on me.
The bourbon. The night I ran from the workshop after messing around with Leo. I was upset, and Denver made me a drink.
Grinding the gag between my teeth, I glare with venom and unsheathed steel.
“Don’t be angry,” he says conversationally. “The poison I put in your bourbon doesn’t have long-term effects. Just a few days of nausea and crippling stomach pain. No harm done.”
Fucking bastard! Conniving, heartless, cold-blooded cunt!
I buck in the restraints, twisting my arms in the leather shackles.
Waste of effort.
I need to reserve my strength, which is depleted thanks to whatever he drugged me with today.