Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
The thin blankets aren’t enough to keep me from shivering at the flat certainty in his voice. He can’t mean this. He can’t mean he tried to kill my brother, his best friend.
Something about him is dark and furtive now. I can’t put my finger on it—the way his eyes shift back and forth, never landing on anything for long. The way he fidgets, jamming his hands into his pockets before pulling them out again, sometimes rubbing them on his thighs. He’s jumpy, full of nervous energy, and unable to vent it in any useful way.
He’s a caged lion, pacing back and forth. What happens when the lion gets tired of pacing? Who does it lash out at? The person stupid enough to stick their hand in the cage, obviously.
Ren was never like this before. He always had a self-possessed way about him. More than once, I’ve overheard Dad describing him as almost too laid-back, like nothing affected him very deeply. He knew how to let things roll off his shoulders.
I mean, I know that’s not technically true. Things affected him deeply, the way they would anyone. He just knew how to handle himself, was all.
Unless he was enraged, like the night Enzo Grimaldi cornered me in the library. He was my avenging angel that night, full of murderous darkness that really and truly turned me on for the first time in my life.
This isn’t the same thing at all. Not even close.
Then he was unhinged, but even that had an edge of control to it. He was self-possessed enough not to take things too far.
This version of Ren doesn’t have the same grip on himself.
And I’m alone with him.
“Where are we?” Before he can answer, I insist, “We have to go back. You need to take me home. Otherwise, this will only get worse. You get that, right? Things are bad enough already. We can work everything out.”
I’m babbling, but I can’t stop. “Please,” I whisper, trembling because I know my words are falling on deaf ears. “Please, take me back before they send people to get me. I don’t want anybody hurting you. You know they will if they find me. They might kill you. There’s still time to work this out, Ren.”
A quick look over my left shoulder reveals a door open on the rest of what I now understand is a cabin. My gaze lands on a faded couch, the coffee table in front of it littered with dirty cups and dishes.
And beside it, a door.
I have no idea where we are. All things considered, there’s very little chance of finding help.
But right now, more sickeningly afraid with every breath I take, good sense is in short supply. I have to get out of here. The one person in the world who I was sure I could count on is… all wrong. I can’t even begin to unpack what that means or what to do about it.
I can do that later. When I’m out of here.
Away from him. Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m about to run away from the man I’ve spent all these years loving in spite of everything.
I see him whirl on me out of the corner of my eye once my feet are on the floor. Fear sends adrenaline flooding my system, making me fly across the bedroom and into the living area, the front door in my sights.
“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice is loud, harsh, and much too close to my ear. A cry of pure anguish tears itself from my chest as a steel band encircles my waist, and my feet are left kicking thin air instead of pounding the floor.
“Please!” I don’t know what I’m begging for. For freedom? For answers? For him to love me again? Maybe all of that and more. A million panicked, heartbroken thoughts bounce around in my head, leaving me almost mindless in the face of a flight response run amok.
“Where do you think you’re going to go?” he demands as he carries me back to the bed, his hard body pressed against my back. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. What, you think I can afford to live out in the open? This is a remote cabin. All you will do is put yourself at risk if you go out there alone.”
He’s angry, but I can’t tell if it’s anger because I tried to leave or because of what might happen to me should I get away. If anything, his attitude only leaves me more confused than before. Does he care, or doesn’t he? What am I supposed to believe?
“What are you doing?” I shriek when he removes his belt after dumping me unceremoniously onto the bed.
“This is for your own good. I’m disappointed in you.” It takes no time for him to use the belt to bind my wrists together, then fix them to the rusted metal headboard. All the while, I watch him, searching for any sign of the man I knew and loved.