Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“Oh, yeah?” He frowned at me, yawned, and scratched his hairy belly, which was hanging out under the frayed hem of the wife-beater. “You got it all?”
“All but fifty dollars,” I said quickly, holding up the wad of cash. “And I can get you that by early next week—I just need to work one more shift at the diner. So this, along with what my mom is going to pay you, should be exactly double the rent.”
I started to hand it to him, but he narrowed his piggy little eyes at me.
“No, not exactly, girly,” he drawled. “You said you’re short fifty.”
“Yes, but I can get that to you!” I said quickly. “Honestly, I can, Mr. Groperson!”
“How’d you earn all that, anyway?” he nodded at the money in my hand. “You started stripping with that hot new body of yours, girly? Am I gonna find a bunch of ones in there?”
“What? No!” I exclaimed, immediately offended. “I…I would never—besides, I’m underage! How can you even think that?”
“Oh, I think a man can think a whole lot of things when he sees a tight little ass like yours,” he sneered. He reached out to touch my cheek and cursed as he yanked his hand away. “Goddamn static electricity,” I heard him mutter as he shook his fingers like he’d just gotten a shock.
I felt an instant of gratification. This must be what Lachlan had meant when he said he’d used a little of my “electric fence metaphor,” when he and Bran had Marked me the night before.
But before I could start feeling too smug, Groperson reached for me again—this time he grabbed me by the wrist. I saw him wince as the warning shock went through him, but he didn’t let go.
“You know, you get prettier every time I see you. Come in here for a minute, girly,” he said, leering at me. “I think I know a way you can make up that extra fifty dollars you owe on the rent.”
“What? No!” I gasped, yanking against his grip on my arm. I felt like I was right back at the diner again with the huge biker grabbing my arm, only this time there was no way Lachlan and Bran would show up to save me. They were both still sleeping and nobody even knew where I was!
Oh, why had I come by myself again? Why was I so stupid? I kept thinking I could handle things on my own and then getting into trouble—when would I ever learn?
“Let me go!” I exclaimed, leaning back and putting all my body weight into trying to break his grip. “Don’t touch me!”
Groperson got an ugly, lecherous look on his doughy face.
“Oh, I’ll touch you all right, girly,” he muttered hoarsely. “I’ll do more than touch you. You’ll pay every bit of your rent before I’m through with you!”
Then he yanked me into his apartment.
Fear and horror flooded through me as my feet crossed the threshold.
Inside, I thought frantically. I’m inside now and if he slams the door and locks it, who’s ever going to hear me scream?
Mom had always said the only saving grace about our crappy little apartment was the thick, cinder-block walls. They really cut down on noise from the neighbors—now I was beginning to wish they were paper thin.
What can I do? What can I do? I asked myself frantically. I should work some kind of magic on him!
I remembered Lachlan saying that my power was immense but I had no idea how to summon it or use it or control it. I might as well be an ordinary teenaged girl with no special powers at all if I couldn’t access my magic when I needed it.
“You come in here and take off your clothes,” Groperson was saying. He had his free hand down his boxer shorts, touching himself as he leered at me. “We can make this quick—nobody has to know,” he added. “And then I’ll consider your rent all paid.” He licked his lips, grinning as though he was doing me some kind of favor.
The idea of what he was suggesting made my stomach roll with disgust. I was a virgin—completely inexperienced—and I wanted nothing to do with Carl Groperson and his saggy, hairy belly and dirty fingernails and wet cigar breath. Not to mention what he had in his boxer shorts. I most certainly didn’t want anything to do with that.
“You make me sick!” I shouted at him, still fighting with all my might. “You’re a disgusting, pervy old creep!”
“What did you just say?” He frowned at me but still didn’t let go of my arm.
“You heard me!” I snapped, glaring at him. “You’re old and nasty and you smell.”
“That’s it, girly,” he snarled at me, baring his yellowed teeth. “I was gonna make it nice for you but now you’re gonna be sorry!”