Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77079 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
As much as I hate her for the role she played in destroying my family and bringing me and Blake into this hell, she’s the only saving grace I have from her rapist husband. I almost hate when our time is over as I become vulnerable again, alone and waiting for the monster.
To tell the truth, part of me kind of wants Lucien to come. Because of him, Slade is dead. Because of him, Blake’s in the hospital. Because of him, I was shot, drowned, and raped. He will not get away with this and I cannot wait for him to try me again because this time, he will not walk out of here with his life.
I knew he would come one of these nights and to be honest, I really thought he would have tried something by now, if not every night. You know, try to get the most out of me before I’m gone, but he hasn’t been here, which means tonight is his last night, his last shot to take what he thinks he’s owed and I can guarantee that he will not pass this up.
The door handle lowers and as the door begins to creep open, my hand curls around the wooden stake that I’ve been saving for this very moment. I’d be a little more comfortable with my knife but in hard times, you use what you can get your hands on. For me, it was the chair that sits in front of my vanity. I flipped the fucker over and beat the living shit out of it until the wooden leg finally snapped off.
I spent three days carving it against the side of my bed frame and turning it into a weapon. I can’t wait to lodge it into Lucien’s chest but to be perfectly honest, I’m torn. I don’t know if I want to slam it into his chest and watch the life drain from his eyes or if I want to stab it through his back the same way he had done to Slade.
As the door creaks open and light from the hallway begins to brighten my room, Lucien steps into view. My fingers tighten on the stake, turning my knuckles white as an odd sense of joy filters through me.
Finally.
It will all be over.
Lucien has never been welcome in my room until now.
I’m going to enjoy this but no matter how good it will feel, it will never bring back Slade. I’ve been fighting with myself over this decision for eleven days. Do I kill him or do I allow him to live? If Lucien were to live, it would mean a lifetime of running and looking over my shoulder. It would mean that every other woman in this world is at risk as well as my family. It would mean that he would get to enjoy a life that he doesn't deserve. Yet if Lucien were to die, it would mean that I win…but it would also mean that I’d be taking a life and I’m not sure how that would affect my soul afterward.
Would Slade be proud of me for taking his life or would he want me to take the high road and save myself from the heaviness it will bring me?
Decisions, decisions.
Lucien walks deeper into the room and as he watches me, his eyes become hooded, He licks his lips as though he’s about to devour the sweetest treat and a shiver runs down my spine. He’s so fucking gross.
My questions are answered. I know exactly what Slade would want me to do and fuck it, I’m going to do it.
My hand starts to pull out from under the blanket but I keep my weapon hidden. I don’t want to alert him and screw up my only shot.
I keep my eyes on him, tracking his every move, his every step, every breath. He will not get away with this again and I don’t care if it means that I have to spend the rest of my life rotting in a prison cell. Hell, I’ll probably find a few girls in there I can relate to. Maybe it’ll be great for my soul. Hell, I’ll call it a vacation.
Lucien steps up to the end of my bed and just as he goes to reach for his pants, the door flies open and Maria stands in the doorway, her eyes wide and focused heavily on her husband.
I narrow my eyes at her as she watches him. Something is off here. Her timing…it’s too precise. She came in and disrupted him the day I returned and now again. It’s almost as though…no. No, I refuse to believe that she knows because if she did, surely, she would have done something about it.
But…the way she is watching him with fury in her eyes is suggesting that she knows exactly what’s been going on.