Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
A filthy smirk forms on his lips again, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
“I already like her,” Dylan muses.
“Don’t,” Felix barks, and the other two immediately look away.
So he really is the one in charge.
“Like? Chasing after someone in a stairwell is not something I’d do to someone I ‘like,’” I rebuke.
“We do,” Dylan replies, licking his lips.
A chill runs up and down my spine.
“Tell me why you three were at her funeral.” It’s a long shot, but I have to try.
“Why should we have to explain ourselves to you?” Dylan answers.
“All her friends were there,” Alistair adds.
“Friends, yes,” I say.
Felix’s eyes narrow. “Are you implying something?”
Yes, I am. But I won’t say it out loud. Not while I still need something from them.
“Just give me the fucking diary. It’s no use to you,” I say through gritted teeth.
“So it’s important to you,” Felix muses. “How important?”
“She was my sister. She didn’t want anyone to read it. Except for me,” I say, still clutching that knife firmly in my hand.
His brow rises. “How do you know?”
“I just do,” I say, tired of these games. “Now give me the diary.”
He tilts his head. “Show me what you’re willing to do, then.”
I frown. “What? Why? It’s mine.”
With a dead-serious look, he says, “Get on your knees.”
Is he for real?
My fingers tighten around the knife. “No. No fucking way.”
Why would he think I’d do that willingly? I don’t fucking know what he’s planning, and I sure as hell know what these boys are capable of. It can’t be anything good.
“Well then, I guess the diary is gone forever,” Dylan muses from his seat, pushing out his cigarette in the ashtray.
“I need it,” I growl back. “This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m not joking either,” Felix replies, eyeing my knife. “The question is … what are you willing to do to get it back?”
I grind my teeth in frustration, contemplating whether I should stab him again. But it’s three against one, and they would not let me walk out of here without an equally painful scratch.
“Twirl around for me,” Felix taunts. “Let me see what’s underneath that skirt.”
“Perverts,” I mutter under my breath.
Dylan laughs. “Thanks for the compliment.”
Of course they’d see it as a compliment.
There’s a glimmer in his eyes. “You haven’t even seen us at our worst yet.”
“Now twirl, or you’ll never see that fucking diary again,” Felix says, gawking at me with those eyes that scream dominance.
He wants to overpower me.
Make me submit.
And if I want that diary back, I don’t have any fucking choice in the matter.
Fuck.
Sighing out loud, I slowly twirl around so the skirt doesn’t rise too much, but I can still catch a glimpse of their mischievous and victorious looks, and they piss me off.
Felix suddenly stands up, and his hand coils around my wrist the moment I reach the end of my spin. His grip is firm, painful even, and I struggle to jerk free.
He’s face-to-face with me, and it makes it hard to breathe.
“Let go of me,” I growl, trying to keep my bearings.
Violence flickers in his eyes. “No, I don’t think I will.”
He shakes my wrist so hard I lose my grip on the knife, and it drops … right into his other hand.
Before I can even react, he’s already thrown it to Dylan, who easily catches it. He twirls it around in his hand, showing off the fact that I’m no longer in control.
They are.
My body floods with panic, but I swallow down the nerves.
Felix’s free hand latches onto my shoulder. “In fact, I think it’s about time you go down on your fucking knees.” Gripping my wrist, he forces me down until I collapse onto the floor from his overpowering strength. With his darkening gaze on me, I struggle to even react. His half-mast killer eyes alone could pin anyone to the floor.
He releases my wrist, only to grab my face, pushing my cheeks together. “That pretty face deserves to be destroyed.” His fingers slide down to my chin, and he pushes it down, forcing a thumb inside. “You want your fucking diary back?”
When I try to speak, he shushes me. “Just nod.”
Fuck. I hate him so much. But I still nod because I can’t even say a word without gargling from his fingers slowly pushing farther down my tongue.
“Then be a good little fucking slut and gag for me,” he growls, stuffing his fingers all the way inside until his knuckles hit my teeth.
Tears well up in my eyes, and I cough out loud, trying to resist the urge to vomit.
“That’s it. That’s the little slut-face I’m looking for,” Felix murmurs, leaning in to spit on my face.
Dylan and Alistair laugh. “Get her.”
When Felix pulls his fingers from my throat, I gag and mutter, “Fuck you.”
“Gladly,” Felix replies. He slowly tugs down his zipper. “But first, you’re going to show me just how much that throat of yours can take.”