Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
So many purple bruises cover my ass and the backs of my thighs, all of them sore to the touch. The water from the shower hitting me is painful, even though the water pressure in this shitty apartment sucks. I clean myself as best as the pain will allow and finally wrap up the shower when the ache becomes too much. I slowly pat myself down and pull on a pair of loose pajama pants and a tank top before curling up on my bed, wincing.
Silent tears soak my pillow as I lie there, reliving the nightmare I’ve endured today. When I got up this morning, I didn’t imagine that things would end the way they did. I was prepared to be a little sore, as to be expected when having sex with two guys for the first time ever. But I didn’t expect to be bruised and abused.
And I definitely hadn’t expected it to be at the hands of Tristan and Talon, two men I’d put behind me a long time ago.
“It’s okay. I’m going to be okay now,” I murmur to myself and take a cleansing breath. Today may have sucked, but instead of two hundred thousand dollars, I’ll now have double that. Not only will I have enough to buy any car I want, I can even move to a safer, nicer place.
I roll over onto my side with a sniffle and think of all the other things I can do with the extra money I’ll have. My opportunities have changed drastically, at least. I can now go to school, get a good job, and finally have the life I’ve always dreamed of.
But at what cost? The bitter thought brings fresh tears to my eyes again. The cost of a better life almost killed me today. The cost of a better life was my dignity, my innocence, my morality.
It’s cost me everything, not just my virginity and two hours of time.
I don’t know when I fall asleep, but I’m jolted awake by a crash from my living room.
I sit up in bed and am quickly reminded of my injuries when pain overwhelms me. I rapidly blink my eyes to try to adjust to the growing dark. For a moment, I think that I might’ve just dreamed that I heard something until another noise comes from the living room.
My heart thunders in my chest as I feel under my pillow and grab the knife that I keep there just in case, and carefully get out of my bed. I wince in pain when the soreness reignites and scurry across my small bedroom to my closet. I curse under my breath when the closet door squeaks a little, but I quickly enter the closet and close the door, praying whoever is inside will just take whatever they came to get and leave without finding me.
I hold my breath when heavy footsteps appear in my room. My hand clutches the handle of the knife even tighter as I prepare myself to fight if I have to. I swear, life has seriously been fucking me over today. Who did I kill in another life to deserve this current shit show that I’m living in?
The closet door is snatched open, and I scream, blindly swinging the knife. A familiar, deep male voice mutters a curse as he fights against me. I shriek in pain when he disarms me and manages to accidentally cut my arm. I clutch my arm and glare at him, finally noticing Tristan standing a few feet away.
“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean to do that,” Talon quickly apologizes. I push him away from me and clutch my arm.
“What the fuck are you two doing in my apartment?!” I scream. “Get the fuck out.”
“Not until you give us answers,” Tristan demands.
“I don’t have to explain anything to you,” I fire back.
Tristan takes a menacing step forward and sneers at me. “The fuck you don’t!”
“Is that a deep cut?” Talon asks, ignoring Tristan’s ranting. “Maybe we should get you to a hospital—”
“She’s not going any-fucking-where until she tells us what we want to know,” Tristan interrupts as he takes another step toward me.
“I don’t know how you two got in here, but you need to leave immediately before I call the police,” I threaten. My voice trembles a little bit, and I know it only makes me look weak in front of them.
They share a look between the two of them before Tristan smirks at me. “You know what? That’s a good idea. And when they get here, maybe you can explain why you’re essentially committing fucking fraud by having your apartment in the name of a dead woman.” My blood runs cold at his words as I watch him pull out his phone. “So who’s calling? Me or you?”
I nervously shuffle my weight from foot to foot. Everything in me wants to end this nightmare with them and just tell them the truth, but I know the truth will only make matters worse. I don’t even know why they’re here or how they know that I put my apartment in their mother’s name. Do they think I’m going to tell people they’ve been at the club or something? The way they’re essentially hunting me makes no sense.