Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
He stares across the bar at me. I look into my man’s eyes—my man. With my own death so clearly possible, I can’t hold back those thoughts anymore. I want to be his. I’ve wanted it for a long time, but in a silly, childish way. This is real. If we had the chance, I would spend the rest of my life with him.
“Did he come alone?” Damon asks one of his goons.
“Yeah,” the man grunts. “Fucking idiot.”
“You must really care about this one, Landon,” Damon says, gesturing at me. “You’ve got to know that nothing good will happen now. You need to understand that.”
“I understand you need to feel tough,” Landon growls. “I understand that all of this—grooming the kids, intimidating people in their own homes—is for you, Damon. It’s so you can look tough.”
“Look tough?” Damon snaps. “That’s one way to phrase it, but I’m not as interested in looks as I am in facts, buddy. First things first, be a champ and get on your knees for me. You’ll have to do some good old-fashioned begging to make up for your little stunt last night. You seriously concussed one of my men. Are you proud of that?”
Landon hesitates. He looks down at Damon with every muscle swelling, with his savage features contorted into pure fury.
“You think you’re too good to beg?”
Damon spins and rushes over to us, then tears the tape off my mouth. I gasp as spit slides down my chin, and the gag falls out.
“Tell him,” Damon shouts, glaring down at me. “He has to do this for you, hot stuff.” He puts heavy sarcasm on hot stuff. “If you don’t make him see sense, I’ll place a shot right here.” He pokes me in the forehead. “If I’m lucky, it’ll go right through your empty head and take out your friend with the same bullet.”
I can feel Maddie’s fear by her shuddering since we’re tied back to back. It’s a reverberation of pure terror.
“Landon,” I whisper, turning to him, hating the tears that prick my eyes. Landon has brought my emotions closer to the surface than anybody ever has. “You have to do what he says. For Maddie.”
“And for you,” Damon grunts. “Look at him, sweetie pie. Do you think he gives a fuck about her? He can’t keep his eyes off you. If it wasn’t so disgusting, I might almost be moved.”
“Do you think this means anything?” I hiss. “If he gets on his knees and begs, what do you think—”
I stop when he pulls out a gun and shoves it right against my mouth. A primal, deep-rooted impulse twinges inside me, a voice roaring to do what he says, not to make him mad, to stop trying to be clever and reason with him.
“Not got much to say now, have you?”
“Leave her alone,” Landon growls.
Damon turns to him but keeps the gun against my head. I can hear Maddie crying through her gag. More unbearable than that, I can feel her shaking against me. Her chair makes tsk-tsk noises as the legs rasp against the floor. It’s like she’s about to have a full-blown panic attack. I can’t blame her. I blame myself.
“That’s up to you, buddy,” Damon says. “You’re not a soldier. No need to stand at attention. Get on your fucking knees.”
When Landon slowly drops to his knees, Damon makes the ugliest, most vicious noise of satisfaction. “Yes, yes,” he whispers.
It looks so strange seeing somebody so powerful and self-possessed like this. All around us, men laugh coldly, low, and torturous. It reminds me of high school. All these men are nothing but overgrown bullies.
Damon removes the gun from my head and walks across the bar to kneeling Landon. He puts the gun against Landon’s head and then looks at me with a cocky grin of pure victory, a grin that says, I’m in control, and there’s nothing you can do about it.
“Shall I ask her to choose, Landon?” he says. “Head or heart, hmm, Lily? What do you think?” He moves the gun toward Landon’s chest, then back to his head, a pendulum back and forth. “Would you prefer to see his hair spattered all over the floor or a big hole in his chest? Which one, Lily?”
Maddie’s trembling is getting out of control now. The guilt practically drowns me. I know I’ll never be able to make this up to her if we ever get out of here. The chair legs judder around. She’s shaking so much that even my chair leaps everywhere.
“Jesus Christ,” Damon growls. “Will you tell that bitch to stop? I’m trying to enjoy myself.”
“She suffers from panic attacks sometimes,” I say in the calmest voice I can manage. It’s difficult when the prospect of my man’s death is so close—far closer than learning about it through a doctor’s appointment. “She can’t help it. She needs space and time to calm down.”