Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
One.
Two.
His focus was on the crib.
Likely trying to understand how there was an entire nursery set up already.
Three.
I yanked back my arms, then swung forward with every ounce of strength in me, watching the wooden base crack against his head, but a little lower than I’d intended, landing more behind his ear than across his skull.
Still, the impact hurt, making him curl forward with a savage curse as I tried to rush out from behind my door.
He was faster, though, whipping around, grabbing a handful of my hair, and yanking backward.
The pain seared across my scalp, making me hiss out my breath, trying not to scream, not to give Judah any reason to cry out to me.
“You thought you could run?” he growled, yanking me back into the room, and slamming the door with his free hand.
Before shoving me against it, the pain of the impact screaming across my cheek.
“You thought you could keep my son from me?” he growled, his voice hot in my ear as he yanked my hair back harder, making white sparks of pain dance in front of my eyes as the tears flooded, threatening to spill out.
“He’s not yours,” I ground out. “He’s mine.”
I knew pissing him off was not the smart move.
But he was already enraged.
And if this was how I was going to go out, I wanted to at least get a chance to tell him what an absolute shithead I thought he was.
“He’s mine,” Warren growled, grabbing the back of my neck, then slamming me forward into the door again.
I tried to angle up as much as I could, not wanting my forehead to hit the door, to risk unconsciousness.
The impact was on my chin and mouth, and I tasted blood as my teeth scraped across the inside of my lower lip.
“He’s mine,” Warren roared.
Then his fingers were tightening around my neck, then yanking me backward by it, tossing me back with enough force to send me flying into the bed, bouncing on the mattress as he loomed over me.
I’d seen his evil before.
When he’d put his hands on me.
But I’d never seen the blind rage I was looking at right then.
I felt like I was choking on my own heart as he took a threatening step forward.
“So, you’re to blame for all these fucks being alive, huh? You fucking him?” he asked as he took another step forward. “Are you?” he barked, reaching down for me.
But not to drag me onto my feet.
No.
He went right for the waistband of my pants.
Then started to pull them down.
No.
Goddamnit, no.
I could take a beating to save Judah.
But I wouldn’t let him put his hands on me like this again.
If I was going to die, it was going to be with the memory of Aurelio’s hands on me.
Not Warren’s.
“Letting him touch what’s mine,” he added, his gaze watching as he started to expose some skin.
I don’t know where the speed came from.
But the combination of it, and Warren’s preoccupation with what he was planning to do to me, made me able to lift up and kick out my leg before he could stop me, landing hard to the bullet wound I knew must have still been hurting.
He reeled back, face twisted in pain.
I didn’t wait. I flew off the bed, and tried to put some space between us.
His anger overpowered his pain, though, making him turn and come right at me, grabbing me by the throat, squeezing tight.
“I’m not yours,” I hissed even as he started to cut off my air supply. “Never again,” I added before more words proved impossible.
“How’re you going to stop me now?” he asked, ramming me back against the rails of Judah’s crib, then reaching down again for my pants, yanking them down as far as he could without releasing my throat, and I could hear a ripping sound. “Haven’t you learned? I get what I want.”
There wasn’t much thought right then.
Just action.
I struck, clawed, kneed, kicked.
I watched in satisfaction as my nail marks down his face split open and trickled blood.
I didn’t get to enjoy his pain for long, though, before his fist was colliding with my face. Before my hair was grabbed again, yanked savagely to the side, then used to toss me to the floor.
The impact knocked the wind out of me, but I was moving before I could even draw a breath again, trying to put some distance between us.
But then, right as he was leaning down to grab me again, I heard it.
Heard him.
Judah.
Crying.
It was half a beat before Warren heard him too, his mouth twisting into a cruel sneer.
“No,” I cried as he turned toward the door, I reached out, grabbing his leg in both my hands, and yanking back with everything in me.
He fell hard and fast, unprepared, and barely able to throw out his hands to break his fall.