Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“You’re fuckin’ certifiable. I’m gonna go to the cops.”
I scrape the knife along his face, one trickle of blood slides along his cheek. “You'll be doing no such thing. The finger is nothing compared to what I could do to you, your ignorant little wife, and those boys of yours. I was trying to be merciful, but if you want me to unleash the full force of the monster I am, I will happily oblige. Just try me.”
Chapter Six
CLARISSA
Maybe I made a mistake. I sit there in the lush-looking office—Vance’s office. A man’s office. I keep looking at the leather furniture and mahogany desk as I adjust my dress. I should have worn something else. All I'd wanted to do was thank him for some fucking groceries. I could have come here in jeans and a sweater. I didn’t need to get dolled up. I hate my stupid vagina. It was her idea to look pretty for Vance. I pace the room, wondering if I’m the dumbest girl on the face of the planet. I am attracted to a control freak. What if he is some sort of murderer? Even as I have the thought I push it aside. The man seems unhinged, but he also seems protective and kind, at least to me. I just need him to understand that I'm not going to just do what he wants just because he wants it.
I bang on the door for fifteen minutes, to no avail.
“How long am I supposed to stay here?” I demand, my fist hurting from constantly pounding on the steel door.
After Vance left me to deal with whatever, his goons came up and told me to come with them, right after some guy wanted to dance with me. I am starting to think that Vance has a thing about dancing.
Every time someone wants to dance with me, it seems to make him go off the deep end.
“You can’t just keep me here against my will. It’s fuckin’ illegal.”
“Hello, Clarissa.” I jump as a deep voice from behind startles me. I turn to see Vance, no longer in his suit jacket, his black shirt unbuttoned at the top, showing his dark chest hair. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, exposing intricate tattoos all in black, no color.
I storm towards him. His face lightens up, and he flashes me a smile. I slap him hard, leaving an angry red welt. I go to do it again, but he grabs my hand, his smile still plastered on his face, but this time it doesn’t look light. Now it seems dangerous, venomous, and as much as I want to be scared, I find myself being drawn to it.
“You don’t want to mess with me, sweetheart. I’m not one of the little college boys you’re used to.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?”
He shrugs, bringing my hand to his lips and placing a gentle kiss at my pulse point, making my entire body shiver. His eyes get a glint of mischief as his lips turn up, forming an arrogant smile. “Yours.”
“You’re fuckin’ crazy,” I shout, trying to take my arm back, but his hold is too strong. If Vance wants to, he could overpower me with no problem. “You trying to freak me out because I’m not scared of you,” I lie.
Vance takes a step toward me, my wrist still engulfed in his large hand. His other hand brushes my hair back, his touch flooding my body with heat, want, and need. “You should fear me, Little Bird.” He abruptly drops my hand and gestures to the brown leather chair. “Take a seat.”
“Fuck no. I’m leaving,” I say, backing up to the door.
Vance doesn’t say a word. He rips off his black leather belt with one swoop. Panic takes control, and I can barely swallow the bile that is rising in my throat. The genuine fear that he is going to rape me crawls into my mind and holds me tight. He steps closer with the belt in his hand. My back is now to the door, and his frame is all that I see in front of me. I flinch.
He tilts his head. “Did you just flinch, Little Bird?”
I don’t respond. I just want whatever he is going to do to me to end.
Vance bends his head, his breath warm against my skin when he whispers, “Tell me, Clarissa, who do I have to kill?”
Somehow I found my voice. “Yourself?”
Vance chuckles as he steps back and molds the belt into handcuffs. He slides it over my wrists and tightens the loops, the leather making my hands useless. “This should keep you put for the time being.” He lifts me by my waist and moves me towards his desk before he opens the door. He whispers to the men outside. I don’t know what they are saying. From my peripheral vision, I see that the door Vance came through in the back of the room is ajar. This is the moment, my only moment. I run.