Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
The words “shoot him” send me back down the stairs and into the kitchen. I can’t do anything about the situation with Sebastian, at least not yet, but I can take care of that dog.
Robin follows close and disables the alarm at the door, sliding it open for me. I rush out into the cold, dark night, goose bumps skating across my skin as I jog across the brick patio, my bare feet sinking into the dew-dotted grass.
“When did you first hear him crying?” I ask, carefully picking my way across the grass.
“Couple of hours ago. I was looking for you, but I didn't know how to find you without Mr. Arturo seeing me.”
Shit. A couple of hours. What could’ve happened? I guess anything. He could’ve eaten something? Or something might have fallen on him. The possible scenarios are endless. God, I hope he’s okay.
My heart lurches in my chest, fear ruling my instincts. Once I reach the cottage, I grab onto the door handle, but that’s as far as I get before someone's hand closes over my mouth, clamping down and sealing whatever scream was going to escape back inside.
Struggling, I crash into Robin’s chest.
“Sorry, Elyse. It's just business, nothing personal.”
My eyes go wide as I stare up at him, mumbling against the hard grasp of his hand. “What?”
He wraps an arm around my waist and turns me, dragging me into the cabin, back first. What is he doing?
The cottage is dark and quiet. Too quiet. A different kind of fear unwinds in my gut, urging me to fight harder. So I do. I thrash in Robin's grasp, but his hold is tight, and he’s so much stronger than me that I don’t even manage to land any hits on him. Opening my mouth the salty taste of his skin fills my mouth. I know how to get him to get me go.
Without thought to the consequences, I sink my teeth into the palm of his hand.
“You fucking bitch!” he growls and pulls his hand away, giving me a hard shove now that we’re inside. I stumble, nearly falling to the dusty floor.
“Oh, Robin. You made a fatal error in judgment.”
That voice.
That terrible, thick voice trickles out of the dark like it has so many times before, the sound circling around my throat and tightening. Every moment in my life seems to be threaded with that voice, taunting me, beating me, yelling at me.
“She fucking bit me,” Robin growls and leers toward me.
I take a wobbly step back. “You don't know what you've done.”
“There are consequences for every action, and I told you what would happen if you did anything other than what I instructed you to do.”
Robin stops mid-step, his gaze falling on the man who’s behind me. “I didn’t do anything to her.”
A sharp crack ripples through the room, followed by a flash. It all happens so fast; one minute, Robin’s standing, and the next, he’s falling flat on his back, a bullet hole in his head. Paralyzing fear tightens its grasp on my throat. I have to get out of here. I have to find a way to escape because I’ll be the next person with a bullet in their head.
Dazed, I turn to face the man I've hated since I was a child and figured out what it was that he truly wanted from me.
He sits in a chair on the far side of the cottage near the small kitchen. I stare at him for a long moment before my eyes drop to the small lifeless body...no...I can't.
A sob rips from my throat, and tears flood my eyes. No. No. No. I press a hand to my mouth to stop the agony from spilling out.
“Ah, my beautiful Ely. I knew we’d get here. It took a little work, more than I expected, but we’re back to where we were before.”
“No! No!” I scream and step away from the monster in front of me.
I forget Robin’s lifeless body is behind me, and in my haste to escape, I trip over his legs. I land hard on the cracked and pitted floor, my head bouncing like a basketball against it.
Get up. Move, I scream at myself.
Black spots appear in my vision, and try as I may to blink them back, to hang onto the present, the throbbing sensation in my head makes that impossible.
“Yes, Ely. Mine. All fucking mine.” Yanov’s voice haunts me, even as the world around me goes dark.