Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Maybe that’s all it was to you,” he says.
We reach the elevator, and the doors are already open. Leif gestures for me to step in, and he follows, pressing the button for the fourth floor.
Maybe that’s all it was to you.
Does Leif have feelings for me? Does he really think there’s a difference between making love and fucking?
Because I don’t know. I don’t think anyone has ever made love to me. I was still a virgin when my mother kicked me out, and I had a few experiences during my time in Phoenix, but they were all quick fucks. Then on the island… That was rape, pure and simple.
What the hell is making love, anyway? I don’t know what love is, so how could I know what making love is?
“Here we go.” The elevator doors open and Leif gestures for me to go out.
“Okay.” I walk to my apartment, pull out my key card, and slide it through.
“You okay for the time being?”
I turn to face him. “No. I won’t be until you tell me what that text said.”
“Damn it all to hell, Kelly.” His mouth comes down on mine in a fiery kiss.
2
LEIF
I pry her lips open with my tongue.
How could she feel nothing? How can she think what we did was just a fuck?
I love this woman. God knows why, but I do. The heart wants what the heart wants. But I’m supposed to be protecting her, and if I let my heart get involved I may not think clearly. Plus, she’s not ready for anything more than sex, if she’s even ready for that. I break the kiss abruptly.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. “Sorry about that.”
“Are you?”
“I am,” I say truthfully. “Because I think whatever this is between us has to stop.”
She looks at the floor.
“Wouldn’t you agree?” I ask.
“Yes, of course,” she says, still gazing at her feet.
I tip her chin up so she’s forced to look into my eyes. “Say it now. Say it to my face. Look into my eyes, Kelly, and tell me.”
She looks away for a moment, but I cup both her cheeks and hold her face in place so her gaze can’t waiver.
Even then, she attempts to look down.
“Damn it, Kelly. Look at me.”
She obeys.
She obeys almost too quickly, as if it were instinctual.
“Answer me. You will fucking answer me.”
“Yes,” she grits out. “I think this should end.”
“Very well.” I grab my phone, trying to ease the ache in my heart. I pull up the text. I don’t want to show it to her. It will scare her. It may send her into a tailspin.
But the text was meant for her. She’s an adult, and it was not my place to hide it from her.
I glance at the words. I won’t be leaving her tonight. I’ll be staying on her couch. In fact, she won’t be out of my sight until we put an end to this. The threat is so much worse than Brindley. So much worse than her mother, Racine.
We haven’t even begun to figure this out.
I swallow, stand my ground.
And then I show her the text.
Her jaw drops, and the rosiness of her cheeks drains from her face.
“You see why I didn’t want you to see it.”
She gulps and hands the phone back to me, and I read the horrifying words once more.
I have a knife and a penis, and one of them is going inside you tonight.
3
KELLY
Not Brindley.
Not any of the women.
It’s a man.
And I know who it is.
Except I don’t. The man who used those exact words on the island always wore a mask.
His knife never went into me. I was obedient on the island. I didn’t fight back as much as I probably should have. Macy says it’s because of two things. One, after living with my mother, I was used to being obedient to avoid getting punished, and two, a dark part of me actually wanted the attention. When all the attention you know is negative, you begin to take it any way you can get it.
The man who said those words was called Mr. Smith.
A lot of them were called Mr. Smith.
But I called this Mr. Smith The Dark One because his hair was black as night, and so were his eyes. His skin was lightly tanned.
And he was the one…
I wasn’t his favorite. He didn’t always choose me. And when he didn’t…I felt jealous.
“Did he have a favorite?” Macy asked me once.
“I don’t know. Some of the men did.”
“But did this one?”
“Like I said, I don’t know. He chose me a lot. But sometimes he didn’t.”
“Perhaps you were his favorite.”
The conversation jolted me at the time as I realized its truth. I was The Dark One’s favorite, but he didn’t exclusively choose me. That made me angry. Jealous.