Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“I will kill you, Elyse!” He says in a vicious growl as his hand clamps my arm in a death grip. I struggle in his grasp, and there’s a sharp crunch, then a wave of pain as something in my arm gives way. I know there should be more pain, that I should feel something, but I don’t.
It doesn’t register in my mind that I might have a broken bone, not while he’s still breathing. My only objective is to end his life, to ensure he can never hurt anyone else ever again.
My vision blurs, and I shove through the exhaustion, fear guiding me, reminding me that if I don’t kill him, he will surely end me when this is over. I’m not sure how much time passes, but soon he’s slumped against the floor. I wait. Barely breathing, watching until his chest no longer rises and falls. That I can’t hear his phlegm wheeze any longer.
I’m numb, unable to feel anything for the dead man in front of me. I look away from his body, and take a trembling step back, the shower head slipping from my hands.
The reality of what I’ve done finally catches up with me, and my heart lurches inside my chest.
I’ll never be free.
There is no escaping the consequences now. Pinpricks of pain zing up my arm as I lift it, pressing my hand to my stomach.
There's a throbbing there, a dull ache, but I know all too well that once the adrenaline wears off the pain will be more severe. I need to come up with a plan. I need to call for help. I stumble into the bedroom and freeze. There is no one to call for help. No one can save me.
Once my father finds out, everything will be over. I will be trapped in his dark web all over again. He'll use this against me. He'll hold it over my head until he can get everything he can out of me. My body, my life, my soul. All of it. I’ll be left with nothing.
Panic wraps around my throat, tightening its grip, until I can’t suck another breath into my lungs.
I’m a murderer.
I killed him.
My knees give out on me, and I crumble, my body landing on the floor. I don’t even feel the pain of falling, or the scratch of the carpet against my skin. There’s only the choking panic slowly strangling the life out of me.
Ahead, my shirt is on the floor.
No. Sebastian's shirt.
Sebastian.
The man I love, or rather loved.
I don’t know who he is, or if the version of him I knew was ever really real. It doesn’t matter, not anymore. There is no future for us. He’s nothing but a liar. A liar and a murderer. Of course, I’m a murderer now, too, but even thinking of him and how easily I fell for him makes me ashamed.
In some ways, he’s no better than my father or Yanov.
Gritting my teeth, I crawl across the floor, my hurt tucked to my side.
I sit back and reach for the shirt with my good arm. It takes everything inside me to remain sitting upright. I’ve never been so tired in my life.
Slowly, as if there is a heavy weight pressing down on my limbs, I tug the shirt over my head, using my uninjured arm. Halfway through I have to stop and catch my breath. The pain, the fear, the adrenaline catches up with me coiling in my chest, and my body betrays me.
Tears leave cold trails down my cheeks. The early morning sun peeks through the drapes, the rays of sunlight dragging my attention back to my hands. I stare at my fingers. Blood stains my pale skin. His blood. Panic, and urgency push all my other emotions aside. I need to get out of here. Leave before the cops show up, or worse, my father.
There will be plenty of time to contemplate my choices, to wonder if I did the right or wrong thing, but now is not the time for questions. Right now, I need to protect myself. To put as much distance between me and this place as I can.
Using the bed as an anchor, I stand. Then I walk across the room to the door, unlock the deadbolt, and tug it open. I’m momentarily blinded by the rising sun, but once my eyes adjust I peer around the mostly vacant parking lot.
I recognize Yanov’s car in one of the spots. I could take it, then ditch it later if need be. It would be the fastest way out of here. A quick, clean getaway. And right now that’s what I need.
Turning around, I head towards the nightstand to grab Yanov’s car keys.
Stupid. I’m so stupid. He wouldn’t leave his keys right out in the open. My heart sinks into my stomach when I reach the vacant nightstand. Taking his car would be the smartest option, but not if I have to touch him to get the keys. The mere thought of reaching into the pocket of his pants repulses me.