Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Hello, Gracie.” His lips turn up in a slight grin, as he uses the nickname he gave me years ago. I haven’t heard anyone say my name in two years and having him say it now evokes emotions I would rather now have. I snarl my lip in response, the sound of my name falling from his lips making my heart beat faster inside my chest. Unlike my voice, his is strong and confident, completely unaffected by what is happening. It’s almost as if he was expecting this whole thing to happen, as if he was waiting for it or something.
“H-how…? How are you here? Y-you…you can’t be here,” I stumble over my words.
He takes a ginormous step toward me and I automatically take one back. He’s so much taller and I crane my neck upward, lifting my chin and raising the knife that's still in my hand. For a fraction of a second, I consider that he may hurt me. I’ve seen him kill, twice now, it’s obvious nothing has changed. He might have been my first love, but he’s proven once before that I’m nothing to him. He’s shown me the darkness that lingers inside of him.
Still, the look in his eyes is soft, caring and the sting of pain that, that look leaves me with only angers me further. Instead of backing up like I had hoped he takes another step toward me, eating up the space between us.
“We don’t have time for games. We need to get out of here before someone calls the police. Give me the knife,” he demands, his voice firm, but I couldn’t care less about what he has to say. I’m not going anywhere with him, and I’m definitely not giving him the only weapon I have to protect myself. Instead I brace myself for his attack.
“Get away from me,” I snarl. “You shouldn’t be here. I didn’t need you to save me. Just leave.” I wield the knife in front of me like I know what I’m doing, while he circles me like prey, waiting for the moment I slip up so he can swoop in and land his final blow.
“That’s not what it looked like a moment ago. It looked like you were seconds away from being cut up.” The cocky edge to his voice is infuriating and I want to slap him. Slap him senseless.
I shake my head, his voice, his stupid words messing with me. “Stay back.” My voice quivers. I’m not afraid...I’m strong, stronger than this. He takes another step forward and I retreat step after step, until he has me backed into a corner, my bedroom wall at my back.
A knowing grin pulls at his smug lips. Asshole. When he comes closer, I swing the knife at him, the blade slicing through the air as he easily escapes my assault.
“Now that’s no way to thank someone for saving your life.” He tilts his head to the side examining me, his eyes raking up and down my body. Again, his tone is cocky, as if I would ever thank him for killing someone. I don’t want someone’s death on my conscious. But it already is. I grit my teeth and take another swing at him. I know he’s baiting me, trying to get a reaction out of me, and it’s working because all I can think about is stabbing him with this stupid knife.
“I’m not thanking you for anything,” I growl, as he grabs me by the wrist on my second swing, halting me before I even get close to his chest with the blade. In the blink of an eye he’s twisting my arm in a weird way. Pain shoots through my shoulder, a whimper escaping my lips, and I can’t help but open my hand and drop the knife. It’s that, or continue to be assaulted with pain.
“You’ll thank me later, Gracie, with those pretty lips of yours,” he whispers into my ear, and I swear I hear him inhaling, his nose skimming over my throat. As soon as the blade hits the floor, he grabs me by the other arm and starts dragging me out of the bedroom and toward the front door.
No. Something inside me screams and I completely lose my mind then. I start wailing my body around like a toddler, using every ounce of strength I have to fight him, to escape his steel grip.
“I’m not going back there with you. I would much rather die than go back! Save yourself the time and kill me now,” I scream at him and I wholeheartedly mean it. I’ll kill myself before I ever let him take me back to Safe Harbor.
“I’m not here for that, so stop fighting me. You’re fucking slowing us down,” he barks, but his voice only aggravates me further. If he’s not here for that then why is he here? Everything he’s saying makes zero sense and all I can think about is getting away from him, escaping him, and whatever he has planned for me.