Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 35602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
One of the men kicks me in the stomach, making me double over on the lawn.
"You thought you could run away didn't you?" someone asks. I recognize him as the one who'd cornered us in Ivette's bedroom. "You thought you could get away. Run away from all of this. Start a new life, far away from the men who have been hunting your whole life. I'm here to tell you, you're wrong, sweetheart. You're going to fall prey to the worst of the worst now. You thought you could be safe here, but you thought wrong. We've had our eyes on this place for a while. We know exactly what goes on in here. What kind of women come here. Did you know this home is famous for housing women that escaped from the cartel?"
I don't respond and this doesn't seem to please him. He kicks me again, making me grunt as I hit the ground.
"We were always going to attack, but once we found out Xavier Gunn's sweet little bride was in here with the rest of those whores, we knew we couldn't wait any longer. Now the question is, should we give you back to him? Or should we sell you to the highest bidder? Maybe myself? I wouldn't have to pay a cent. It would be so easy... I could overpower you and be inside you within seconds. Maybe that's what you really want. Maybe you didn't want to run away at all? Is that it, sweetheart?"
My gaze darkens and I stare at him with undiluted hatred.
"I'm never going to stop running," I inform him coolly. "I have no intention of being your toy."
He laughs merrily as if I've just told a joke. "I don't think that's up to you, sweetheart. From now on, you're at the mercy of me and my co-workers here. And we're the ones who are going to decide what happens to you. Every brutal little detail of your life is up to us now. And we're going to use our imaginations to make it the worst time you've ever had on this earth. We're going to torture you, rape you, and make you into an obedient little pet for all of us. You're never going to run away from us now. You thought you could outrun the cartel... you must be more naive than I thought. There is no outrunning me, there is no escaping the law that rules the streets."
He keeps talking as the rest of the men approach the building which is now in shambles. The windows are broken, and there's blood on the doorstep. Everyone is dead now.
I watch as the men begin pouring gasoline all over the home. My home. A shelter for women who've been hurt is now going to burn to the ground. The sight is almost too much for me to bear, and I close my eyes, forcing myself to ignore the sounds of gasoline pouring.
But this doesn't seem to please the man, and he raises my head, gently tipping my chin back with his fingers.
"You don't want to look, sweetheart?" he asks and I wordlessly shake my head. Perhaps this will afford me a small mercy from this cruel man. Perhaps I won't be forced to watch my home for the last few months burn down in flames.
But I should know from his evil grin that he has no intention of going easy on me.
"I want you to watch," he smirks. "I want you to watch every second of this. So you know what's going to happen to everything you hold dear in your heart unless you cooperate."
I don't want to say no, because I know he's only going to hurt me more if I decline. So I force myself to keep my eyes trained on the scene before me. The men keep pouring gasoline, and then one of them strikes a match and throws it on the remains of the shelter. I watch, horrified, as the bodies in the home burn, filling the air with a putrid stench.
Dead.
Gone.
The women who came here seeking shelter didn't find it, and now our once happy place has been turned into a burning pile of ashes and embers. I don't make a sound as I watch the place burned down. There is nothing for me to say. Tears would only make me appear weak in front of these men, who would undoubtedly use it to their advantage to hurt me more. But I'm not going to show my weakness.
I force myself to keep my head up and stare straight into the eyes of the man who brought me here. The one who keeps calling me sweetheart.
"You can break everything in my life, from my bones to my relationships. You can burn down my home. You can kill my friends, but you're never going to break me," I tell him.