Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
He then got up, grabbed the bucket of water, cloth and soap, and set it all down around him. He began to clean her up. His touch was not too soft, yet not too rough. A firm, determined hand—just right.
“…Why are you doing this to me? Keeping me here?” The words choked out of her, shook their way down to her core.
“Because you put me and my men in danger. Prison would be the least of our concerns. Your little story would cause many people to be executed. This is not a game.”
She looked down at his crown of jet-black hair, the strands silky with a slight wave. His hair was short on the sides, with tapered sideburns. She hated how her attraction for him blended in with her hatred. A swell of shame washed over her for being fascinated by a man who’d kidnapped her, had her beaten to a pulp, and tossed her in some horrible cell. It didn’t make sense, and yet, she felt it, this strange pull to him… He showed occasional, fleeting acts of kindness and concern. They were gone in a blink, but there nonetheless.
There was that smell again, too. His intoxicating cologne. Somehow, it made her physically ill and yet, lessened her hatred of him. A little.
“Archer, I told you that nothing I did was on purpose, and no story has been written! That has to count for something. You saw that for yourself. Please… just let… let me go.” A tear cascaded down her face. “I promise, as God is my witness, I won’t breathe a word of this.”
“It’s too late for that.” He didn’t look at her, just kept tending to her cuts and scrapes. “We can only move forward. What’s remarkable about you, Honey, is that you don’t have a lotta family or people you care about. So, you left me no choice.”
“No choice in doing what? Torturing me? You had a choice. We always have a choice…”
“Not really. Typically, in cases like this, I can just use a person’s connections as collateral—a mother, child, something like that, to get what I need. With you, it took a long time to find that carrot to dangle over your head. Either you’re extremely unlikable and have no one you give a fuck about, or you’re like me, too distrustful to let anyone get too close to you. I bet it’s the second one.” He wrung the wet cloth, shook it, then placed it over the edge of the bucket.
“Why do they call you Archer?”
He offered a slight smile as he sat back in the chair. “Because I sometimes kill with a bow and arrow. I’m great with a bow and arrow. My aim is perfect, and there’s nothing more satisfying than sinkin’ a long projectile, going faster than lightning, into somethin’ soft and wet. The human flesh.”
Her insides knotted. It wasn’t the answer she’d hoped for, but it was the answer she needed.
“I care about this situation we’re in. I really do.”
He burst out laughing. “Reporters… mind fuckers. That’s what y’all are. Liars and deceivers. You don’t care about your own life, so I know you don’t give a fuck about anything else, lady.” Her heart galloped. “Your ego and pride are stronger than your will to survive. Or maybe, your will to survive is in fact your ego and pride.” He shrugged as he patted her face with a dry cloth. “You proved that by how you interacted with me earlier, and then with some of my men. Life to you isn’t essential at all. It’s just a pawn. Preservation is based on principles. You are definitely from a different breed, Honey.”
“You say that because I’m unpredictable. At least, that’s what my boss says of me.”
“She’s an idiot who doesn’t really know you then,” He sighed. “Everything you’ve done since I snatched your ass from your hotel room was predictable, except this last act… This stunt of yours. Cigarette burns. Beatings… you took it all. I stepped in, like I said, but you kept fighting until the end. You’ve come too far from home and yet, you still aren’t far enough, are ya?” What did he mean by that? Maybe later it would make sense. “…You’re a queen bee in your own mind, but everyone can be broken. Especially women. You’re like horses.”
“Horses?”
“Yes. Beautiful. Wild. Destined to be broken by a man.” He winked at her, and that half second action filled her insides with black, angry sludge. She fisted her right hand, tasting a foul flavor along her tongue.
“I think men are the ones that can be broken. I think women have been lied to, and y’all are the weaker sex. That’s why you invent religions and laws to try and control women. You can’t take no for an answer, so you try to strong-arm people. You can’t accept rejection, so you hurt and murder. You can’t stand not to be needed, so you try to humiliate and make an example of any woman who dares to emasculate you. It’s y’all that are the weakest link.” She smirked, then narrowed her gaze. “We should have never birthed y’all into the world. You do nothing but denigrate, deny, and destroy.”