Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
"You're a pretty little thing," the man says, a hint of Italian accent in his tone. "I bet you have a pretty little pussy, don't you?"
I force the growl down my throat, my fingers tightening around the gun. Shadows block the light streaming underneath the door and the lock clicks. I hold my breath as the door slowly pushes open, and stops an inch in front of my face.
"Leave the lights off," Tor coos. Her heels tap over the floor, and she leans against the door as she closes it. Mussa's attention is so focused on her he hasn't even noticed me in the shadows.
The glow from the city outside casts enough light through the window that I can see her as she approaches him, each step deliberate, her hips swaying from side to side. The white summer dress she's wearing is barely covering her fucking ass, leaving her long legs exposed. I can hardly make out her face, but can see a small smile playing over her lips. I know that look. It's one that could bring any man to his fucking knees for her. When she stops in front of him, his eyes drop to her cleavage.
"I can't wait to fuck you, sweetheart."
Heat radiates from me. I'll kill him right now. Fuck. I stop myself. This man is my last link to Joe. I can't fucking kill him yet. My chest is tight as hell, my pulse going ninety to nothing. I won't deny that I'm having a hard time standing here, letting this fucker think he can have her.
Tor bends over and slowly glides her hand along the material of her dress. He groans in approval, and I swallow. She slips her fingers underneath the hem, seductively inching the dress up her thigh. I have to grit my teeth. I'm about three fucking seconds away from losing my shit. If he sees any more of her skin, I'm going to cut his fucking eyes out.
She playfully bites her bottom lip as she trails her fingertips up the inside of her thigh. Mussa's gaze follows her every move. A disgusting moan slips from him the second she lifts the dress enough to reveal the lace top of her garter. I clench my fist, my index finger twitching on the trigger of the gun. I want to shoot him just for looking at her like that, stupid motherfucker. She leans toward him and places her lips too fucking close to his. He's completely fixated on her, basically salivating over her. I can't take much more of this. Tor needs to get on with it before my temper gets the better of me. Her hand skims further up her thigh, and she pulls a small knife from her garter so quickly he never suspects a damn thing. Before he can react, the pointed tip of the blade is pressed to his throat. Fuck, Tor. What the hell are you doing? Mussa's eyes go wide, and a smile slinks onto her lips.
His hand creeps toward the gun tucked in the waist of his jeans, and I step out from the dark corner, aiming the gun as I quickly approach him. "I wouldn't if I were you," I say in a calm, even tone.
Mussa's attention turns toward me, and the knife scratches across his throat. I snatch the gun from his pants, cocking it and aiming both weapons at his face. He raises his hands in front of him and freezes. "There must be some misunderstanding here," he says.
"No, no misunderstanding." I press the gun to his temple. "Where the fuck is Joe?"
He arches a brow, one side of his lips quirking up. "JP?" he laughs. "Well, what a fucking surprise."
"Where is he? Tell me, or I'll kill you."
"Fuck you." He grits his teeth. "And fuck your whore."
I hand one of the guns to Tor, and when I do, the fucking bastard swings at me, but misses. I wrap my arm around his throat. He throws his body weight around in an attempt to loosen my hold as I struggle to drag him to the side of the room. This bastard's fucking massive, and I'm finding it a little harder to subdue him than I'm used to.
"You're gonna fucking tell me where that worthless motherfucker is." My voice strains as I struggle against him. "You will die tonight! Whether I make it quick or drag it the fuck out, well, that's up to you."
I force him down into a chair, and as discussed, Tor grabs the zip ties and rope from the bag set behind the door. The man's big, and I will give it to him, he is fighting hard, but with the amount of rage driving me, fucking King-Kong wouldn't stand a chance against me at this point. I press my thumb into the indention between his collar-bone and he coughs.