Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
When I first met Brielle Adair, she had just witnessed a family tragedy.
She was broken, betrayed, and terrified that her end was near.
She chose to curl up in a frightened ball in my closet, and I chose to let her stay there.
My own history told me not to force her to do anything. She had to make those decisions on her own.
In order to start healing, she had to trust me, but knowing the lifestyle she was raised in, I didn't know if trusting her was the smart thing to do.
Does she really need our help, or is every tear and whimper a form of manipulation?
With the way I get lost in her pretty eyes, in the end, will it even matter?
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
Brielle
1 Year Ago
He knew.
Somehow, my stepbrother Xan knew what I had planned despite never having spoken a word about it out loud.
Does that mean Nathan knows? My stepbrother is mean, but he learned everything from his father, and that man knows exactly which form of punishment will hurt me the most.
My plan was more a feeling of desperation than anything else. If I stay, I'll die. Of that I'm certain, and although there are days both Adair men have made me wish for death, my will to live is greater... at least for today.
I do my best not to lick at the split on my upper lip, but there's something about the sting of pain and that coppery taste that makes swiping my tongue over it feel like an addiction.
Nathan left for a work trip, something he does often. Only this time, Xan was instructed to stay home, as if he had a sixth sense that I would try to leave. I’ve attempted to escape several times in the last ten years, and each time, I get a little further. Each time, the punishment is worse.
After poisoning Xan and then stabbing him in the side for good measure, I know my capture this time will be my last.
Maybe that's what moves my feet a little faster.
My lungs burn and my bare feet sting from the numerous injuries on them. Every muscle in my body hurts—most of the aches from the damage Xan did before I left the house.
I refuse to let that sense of hopelessness settle inside of me. The all-too-familiar feeling is already clawing at me from the inside, that voice that tells me to crawl back and beg for forgiveness. It's the same voice that tells me to just conform, to be the evil princess Nathan has worked so hard for many years to create in me.
I wince, my muscles tight as I lift my hand and bang on the door.
What I'm doing could very well get me killed, and when the porch light flips on, I know I've signed this woman's death warrant as well. There's no escaping the wrath of Nathan Adair, and that fear he has instilled in an entire community is why the help offered to me is mostly non-existent.
"I'm ready," I tell her, unconcerned by the barrel of the gun pointed at my face.
She wavers. I see the look in her eyes. She knows what this means for her as well. Her only hope of survival would be to force me to leave and then beg for forgiveness, but that oath she swore to when becoming a cop wins out.
Lucky for me.
Not so lucky for her.
Lowering her weapon. she grabs me by the arm and pulls me inside, the porch light flicking off a second later.
"How did you find my house?" Her voice shakes, and I know what she's feeling. It's a mixture of fear and adrenaline. She's wondering if she's making the biggest mistake of her life. Spoiler—she is.
I know she wants to take down the biggest crime lord the Midwest has seen in decades, but it's going to take more than the testimony of an abused nineteen-year-old to make that happen, and that's on the off chance that I'll ever see the inside of a courtroom.
"How do you think?" I growl, feeling like we're wasting time. I need to put as much distance between Nathan and Xan as possible.
"Do you have more evidence?"
I narrow my eyes at the woman. It wouldn't be completely unheard of for this woman to be on Nathan's payroll. She could be a test to determine if I'm willing to roll over on my family. She could've been willing to help me mere days ago when she handed me her business card in the restroom at the hair salon. She was in plain clothes. The second she put her back to the door, she prevented me from leaving unless I made a scene.
I took the card, knowing it would get me into serious trouble if found, but Xan has gotten a little lax when taking me for routine things. I have my hair done every six weeks, like clockwork. I'm supposed to look presentable, worthy of the Adair name when out in public.
"Where are they keeping the women?"
I swallow, considering how I should answer. If I tell her the truth, that I don't know shit about what she's referencing, then I'm useless to her. She'll tell me to leave and to not come back until I have what they need to finally make a case stick.
There's no going back for me, and I won't be a pawn in any cop’s bid to take down my stepfather.
"I'm not saying shit until I know I'm safe." I won't say anything even then. The second I open my mouth against Nathan, I'm dead. I just need a place to get my shit together so I can formulate a real plan of escape.