Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
She wouldn’t die.
But she would scream.
She’d feel pain and heartache, and…I couldn’t do it.
If you don’t, you’ll die.
And then where will she be?
At the mercy of Victor and Roland. Gangbanged by all the other beasts who’d drooled after her.
I didn’t have a choice.
To save her, I had to hurt her.
And by hurting her, I’d lose myself.
You won’t.
You’re strong enough.
She won’t fight back.
She gave you her word.
So what if I did it drunk?
That didn’t strip me of my faculties—it just intensified the parts I kept secret.
But Ily already knew those secrets.
She accepted those secrets.
We fought together because of those secrets.
Together.
A shred of salvation filled me.
I let out a heavy breath.
We’d both accepted this might happen.
We just had to hold on until it was over.
Forgive me.
Jesus Christ, forgive me.
Tearing my eyes from hers, I tossed back the tumbler full of whiskey. Two mouthfuls, three, four. My eyes watered. My throat stung. And my stomach turned to pure fire as it splashed into my empty insides.
“Good choice.” Victor took my empty glass and marched toward the bar. Topping it up, he came back toward me. “Again.”
Fuck.
I’d be half comatose if I drank that.
Already, the slithering, seducing effects of drunkenness crept over my mind.
I should’ve eaten breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
I should never have come here.
Should never have set eyes on the girl who would haunt me forever.
Swaying a little, feeling sick and lightheaded, I accepted the glass.
I tipped it to my lips.
And drank.
Chapter Twenty-Six
………………………….
Ily
I EXISTED IN A DIFFERENT world.
That world grew ever more solid with every breath, manifesting from nothing to everything. Slowly at first, barely there, but insidious. Horribly, horribly insidious.
My heart rate increased and sweat broke out, but I managed to keep my mind from skittering into la-la land with slow, measured breaths.
I wanted to stick my finger down my throat and throw up what Peter had given.
The need to stop the foggy overtaking of my mind became absolutely paramount.
I couldn’t afford to forget.
Couldn’t allow myself to drown.
Don’t give in.
Just ignore it.
I sucked in another breath.
It’s just a stupid mushroom.
Dizziness struck from nowhere.
Drowsiness and distorted thoughts all turned soft around the edges.
No.
Stay sharp.
Blinking furiously, I cleared my eyes from the haze gathering in the corners. Somewhere in the room a clock ticked, growing louder, twisting my fearful heartbeat.
Every tick, terror-burning fires erupted inside me.
Every tock, smoke billowed thicker, making reality feather into fancy.
A hyena’s cackle echoed in my ears.
That’s not real.
Focus!
I locked my gaze on Henri as Victor commanded him to pour copious amounts of alcohol down his throat.
He gagged as he finished his first glass.
He grimaced as he finished his second.
And he shook his head with a sloppy sway, refusing the third.
“No more.” Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat. “Too much. Too fast. I need—” He stumbled forward, grabbing hold of one of the cabinets holding death upon death. “Just…give me a moment.” Sliding to the floor, he sat on his ass and drew up his knees, putting his head between them. “Fuck, the room’s swimming.”
“Guess you can’t hold as much as I thought,” Victor muttered. Placing Henri’s untouched third drink back on the glittering bar, he pulled a velvet rope in the corner.
Somewhere in the kitchens below, a bell would chime, waking up a servant to bring whatever it was that Victor had just summoned.
“I haven’t eaten in fuck knows how long,” Henri groaned, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand. “You’ve just given me eight or nine shots, judging by your generous pours.”
“Bet you’re wishing you’d eaten now, aren’t you?” Victor snickered. “Never mind. You’ll start to feel the effects in a few minutes. By thirty, you’ll be well on your way to being free.”
“Dead more like.” Raking his hands through his hair, Henri looked up and caught my eyes.
For a second, no one else existed.
The syrupy sickness slowly creeping through me didn’t matter, the drunkenness in his gaze didn’t matter. We were still joined. Still bound. Still in this together.
Together.
I clung to that word like a life raft.
I wanted to haul Henri onto it too—to pluck him out of the sea of alcohol currently drowning him and promise that no matter what happened, no matter what he did, we would get through this together.
I could handle pain.
I would slip into a lifetime of meditation and numb each cut he would give me.
Peter had endured this game multiple times.
I can too.
And then, we’d go back to Henri’s room and figure out a new plan. A plan to finally tell his fellow officers to come get us.
Giving me a tragic shrug, Henri closed his eyes and rested his head against the cabinet.
Even with his eyes closed, the bargain between us held fast. We’d made a commitment to do whatever it took to save Peter and the jewels. Just because he was drunk and I was drugged didn’t mean we couldn’t keep that promise.