Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 100470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100470 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Your wife,” Mya chokes out, tone filled with venom, “was trying to escape.”
CJ, the body behind the voice, helps his sister up. The dying campfire illuminates the side of their unhappy faces. Seeing the blood running over Mya’s lips makes me grin.
“Raegan,” CJ says, attempting to inject authority into his tone. “Get back to our tent.”
I refuse to move, making sure to give him the bitchiest expression I can muster.
“Watch your back,” Mya snaps, swiping at the blood. “When you go to sleep, I will find you in your bed. And I’ll cut your hair off. Maybe I’ll blind you while I’m at it!”
Her words are exactly the same ones I said to her what feels like an eternity ago.
“I’ll be too busy fucking my brainless, shitty husband,” I bite back. “Nice try. I hope I broke your nose.”
CJ hisses at them to go back to their tents before Michael gets involved and then hauls me to our tent. He reeks of liquor and I just now notice him swaying. Great. He’s drunk and I’ve just reminded him about having sex with me. Fear prickles at my skin, making the hairs on my neck stand on end.
“Sit,” he grumbles. “You’ve given me a goddamn headache. Jesus.”
I plop down and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not having sex with you.”
He groans as he sheds his shirt. “Fuck off, Raegan. I’ve got whiskey dick anyway. Go to sleep and don’t try any funny shit.”
I make sure to lie down on the sleeping bag as far away as I can get from him. Whatever whiskey dick is, I’m glad he’s got it. I hope his dick falls off altogether. Lying stiff as a board, I wait for him to trick me and pounce when I least expect it. He settles on his own sleeping bag within seconds. The sounds of his heavy breathing as he falls asleep are oddly relaxing. At least I’ve dodged the bullet that is my “wedding night.”
Once I’m sure he’s asleep, I crash despite my efforts to stay awake.
Later, when it’s still dark, I wake to someone pulling my hair. At first, I think it’s CJ trying something funny, but then when I hear the sound of a blade cutting through hair, I panic.
“Oops,” Mya whispers, tossing my ponytail at me. “Now you’re even uglier, bitch.”
Gaping down in the darkness, I fumble around until I feel the weight of my bundled hair. Tears well in my eyes for a brief moment before rage has me launching myself her way.
“Touch me again and I’ll hurt the little one,” Mya threatens. “I’ll toss him in the river. Watch him drown.”
I freeze, horrified at the thought of Declan being thrown in the river. “You wouldn’t. Your uncle claimed him as his son.”
“Accidents happen,” she says with a harsh laugh. “Try me. Don’t think I won’t.”
With those words, she slips out of the tent and disappears. I reach up to touch my hair—or lack thereof. It’d fallen into a loose ponytail at the top of my back. She must’ve cut right above the ponytail holder. All my hair is gone. Chopped off by that hateful girl.
I curl up on my sleeping bag, biting back tears. I can’t afford to lose it right now. Getting me and my family out of here is more important than hair. Hair grows back. Family does not.
From somewhere close, I can hear a man whispering soft words as a girl cries. I want to throw up. Poor Sadie. Tom is so…huge and disgusting. Is that why Wyatt and Olivia were with Mya? So he could rape Sadie without an audience?
I dry heave at the thought of him rutting over her. His body odor was always so nauseating, but he really felt like someone who wasn’t totally bad. Maybe I was wrong. I’m apparently wrong about a lot of things.
The thought of Tom and Sadie, naked and having sex, makes for a horrible prelude to more inevitable nightmares.
I wake shivering. My legs are cold, but my neck is warm. Hot even. Ronan kisses my neck, suckling the flesh there as his hand greedily rubs my bare thigh.
Wait.
Jerking my eyes open, I notice a man halfway on top of me in the gray, early morning light, but it’s not my brother.
It’s CJ.
No!
His fingers tug at my panties, roughly jerking them down my thighs. Panic quickly races away as rage explodes inside me. I grab at his hair, yanking him away from my neck.
“Don’t touch me, you sick piece of shit!”
He grunts, shocked at my response, and sits up to glower at me. “What the fuck, Raegan?”
I start to pull my panties back up, but he strikes, grabbing onto my hand to keep me from doing it.
“You smell like goat shit,” I hiss, spittle hitting his face. “Your face is so embarrassing. I’m ashamed to have been matched with you.”