Redemption Refused (Mission Mercenaries #5) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Angst, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mission Mercenaries Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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He doesn’t say a word as he drives, and another thrill of danger hits me when I try to roll the window down, but pressing the button on my door doesn’t work.

His eyes slide to me in the darkness as he lowers my window two inches from his side of the truck.

It’s a power play, a way to let me know that it works, but he’s the one in full control. I can guess that if I tried to open my door, I’d find that it doesn’t open from the inside.

My heart kicks up, pounding in my ears at knowing I can’t get out without having to go through him.

My hands tremble in my lap as he continues driving further into the night.

He doesn’t stay on the highway for very long. We’re only in the truck for a handful of minutes when he pulls up outside of a motel, parking directly in front of a room rather than heading to the front office.

It ensures there will be no witnesses to see me inside his truck. I swallow thickly as he climbs out of the driver’s side, reaching his hand across the seat instead of coming around to my side of the door. It doesn’t give me the opportunity to run away while he’s distracted walking around the vehicle. It’s smart, a practiced move that makes me consider he’s made that mistake a time or two.

“Scared?” he asks, the only word he’s said to me.

I nibble on my lower lip, my eyes pulling from his outstretched hand back up to his dark eyes. Stupidly, I shake my head, a part of me refusing to voice the fears swimming inside of me.

I place my hand in his, and he smiles when he notices the tremble in it. He wants me afraid.

My mind flashes to the creepy video that was sent to me, the proof of what my sister has been up to the last several months.

Every call has been a lie. I never complained to Ayla when she called. I never let her know how disappointed I was that she took a job outside of the United States. She sacrificed so much for me over the last three and a half years. It would’ve been selfish to tell her that I still needed her despite being hours away.

To find out she’s been lying the whole time, that she’s been making sadistic porn rather than helping the people of a third world nation with medical care, crushed me. It’s what leads me right where I am tonight.

I’m not a virgin, but the look in this guy’s eyes as I climb out of his truck tells me that it wouldn’t matter if I was. Pumping the brakes should’ve happened before I left the party with him because it’s too late now. I can only imagine the word no isn’t in his vocabulary.

I blame this on Ayla for my being in this situation right now. A therapist would say I’m lashing out, that I’m seeking attention because I feel betrayed by my older sister. That may be the case, but I’ve grown weary of not listening to that voice inside of me that demands a thrill. I’ve lived much of the last several years afraid of what could happen. Losing your parents suddenly has the ability to do that to a girl, but no more. I’m tired of being safe.

What I saw in the video that was sent to me didn’t seem safe. If my sister is capable of living her best life, no matter how depraved it looks, then I have the same right.

He drops my hand the second my feet hit the cracked asphalt. Where I thought he’d drag me into his room, he drops my hand and walks away.

I know I have a choice. I could run and seek help. I could just as easily be hurt by someone else in the shadows as I could be hurt by him. There’s something about the way his legs cover the distance between his truck and the door of his motel room that locks me in place. I see the challenge in it rather than the opportunity to escape. He brought me here, but from the way he doesn’t bother looking back at me, it’s clear he doesn’t give a shit if I walk away or not.

He’s indifferent, and it’s too similar to the informationless calls I’ve been getting from my sister since I arrived at Lindell University. Every time I’ve asked a question that’s gone unanswered, I chalked it up to her being distracted. She only had so much time in town to speak on the pay phone before she had to go back to the village to save lives. At least I thought that was what was happening when instead, she was really into some sick, twisted shit, fucking for money.



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