Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I clench my jaw, unable to look away from his cold-hard stare as the anger in his eyes clearly lets me know that a scheduled fucking wasn’t in the plan. I swallow over the lump in my throat and weigh up my options. There’s a good chance that Marcus doesn’t want his brothers to know what went down in here and if I give up his name, that’ll put me at the very top of his shit list, but not giving up his name puts me at the top of Roman’s.
Fuck, why are these brothers always putting me in impossible situations?
I guess the question is, which one do I fear more?
I narrow my gaze and slowly shake my head, trying to call on that fiery attitude that’s buried deep down inside of me. “Go and interrogate your asshole brothers and leave me the hell alone. I didn’t do shit, just following orders like a good little kidnappee. Now, why don’t you hurry along and go fuck with someone else’s day?”
The silver tray of barely recognizable food is thrown across the small room, sending what must be a pathetic excuse for scrap slamming into the wall and dropping to the ground with a sloppy thud. My heavy stare remains on Roman because I can guarantee that he’s never had a damn person ever speak to him like that and for good reason.
He storms toward me and my eyes bug out of my head. The last time he was anywhere near me, I ended up out cold, and I sure as hell won’t be allowing that bullshit to happen again.
He reaches for me in the same instant that my hand whips out from under my sheets and as his big hand curls around my throat, Marcus’ forgotten knife presses against his.
He tears me up to my feet, so that I stand before him, reaching eye to eye, not even noticing—or caring—about the sharp blade pressed against his fragile, warm skin. It must take a big fucking man to be so careless with his own life, but then, he probably knows that I don’t have the guts to see it through.
“You’re in no fucking position to speak to me like that,” he growls, his words vibrating right through my chest as his heavenly scent consumes me. “You need to watch yourself.”
“What’s the point? It’s not like I’ve got anything to lose,” I spit right back as his other hand curls around my wrist and squeezes so damn tight that I have no choice but to release the knife at his throat.
The metal drops down between us and clatters to a stop at Roman’s feet and only then does his gaze shift down and take in the sleek curve of the red-handled knife and the pristine matte blade that glistens in the late afternoon light.
Recognition dawns in his eyes and just like that, he knows.
Roman releases me, dropping me back to my bed and kicking the knife into the corner of the room, but making absolutely no attempt at taking it away from me. “Stay away from Marcus,” he grumbles, his eyes narrowed in distaste.
I laugh, straightening myself on my bed and slamming my back against the wall, keeping as far out of his reach as possible. “You think I asked for it? That somehow I broke out of this shithole and hunted him down like a fucking cat in heat? I’ve got news for you, it's not me who needs to stay away from Marcus. This is all on him.”
I have a damn good point and he knows it.
His hard stare lingers a moment longer, still not appreciating my careless tone, and then all too soon, he turns his back and begins stalking for the door.
“Wait,” I rush out, hurrying off my bed and clambering to my feet, having absolutely no idea what I need to say. All I know is that I can’t be alone in this torture chamber for much longer. I’m going out of my mind. Hell, I’ll even accept Roman’s company over that of my own.
Roman stops and slowly spins to face me, his pissed-off stare speaking volumes. He doesn’t say a word, just looks at me expectantly, annoyed that I dare to even try to ask anything of him.
“I … umm,” my gaze flicks to the corner of the room to where my sloppy food scraps lay in a pile. “I’m hungry. I need proper food and water, not these disgusting scraps. I played your stupid games. You and your brothers tortured me with white noise and then had your freaking wolves stalk me through your dungeon hallways in the middle of the night. You said if I played along, I’d be rewarded.”
Roman scoffs and steps toward me, his eyes softening and instantly putting me on edge. I flinch as he raises his hand and gently runs his fingers along my collarbone, brushing over the faint bruises that his brother left on my skin. “Did he make you come?”