Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 48371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 242(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
I want to go to the hospital to be with Izzy, but when I get to my room, the sensation of being drunk and confused makes me stumble aimlessly around my room.
The door slides open. My foolish heart leaps, thinking it’s going to be Tony, but it’s not.
It’s Hugh.
Suddenly, I’m nauseous.
“What are you doing here?” It’s difficult to make my lips move and get the words out.
“The better question is what are you still doing here? You were supposed to be dead days ago.”
Tony
I don’t like the ‘accident’ backstage. Not one fucking bit. My security guys reported Isabel Fontaine—aka Izzy, the blue-haired stage manager—was struck by a falling light.
Lights shouldn’t fall at the Bellissimo, so this is either a case of gross negligence, or deliberate sabotage. And I need to figure out which right away.
I’m headed out to my car to drive to the hospital to find out exactly what happened when Corey calls my phone.
“What’s up?”
“Hey, I just got a call from Pepper’s stage manager, Izzy. The one who was taken to the hospital.”
“Yeah? Is she okay? What happened?”
“Uh, she was headed into X-ray when she called, but listen. She wanted me to get a message to you.”
The hair on the back of my neck prickles. “What is it?” I try to keep from crushing my cell phone in my hand as the realization that something is very wrong hits me.
“She said you should stick with Pepper and make sure Hugh’s not with her; I think that’s her manager.”
“What?” Fear lances me, sending adrenaline pumping through my veins. “Why?”
“That’s the thing, she wouldn’t say, exactly. I think she was in a ton of pain so she didn’t make total sense. Anyway, just go make sure everything’s all right.”
“I will,” I grit. I’m running before I even think. I don’t have enough information. I missed learning what Izzy knows or is afraid of, but her fear is for Pepper.
Which means I need to move.
As I run back into the casino, I call Pepper’s phone, call Hugh’s phone.
Cold douses me as I realize: Ernie Denesto.
Hugh.
These fuckers are connected.
Denesto wasn’t after me—he was after Pepper. He’s exactly the kind of low-life killer Hugh would pick out.
Pepper Heart is insured for six mil.
How would Junior know that, if it wasn’t for Hugh telling him? Maybe Hugh suggested we kill Pepper and when we didn’t bite, decided to take matters into his own hands.
I ask my security guys if they’ve seen either of them, and they report that Pepper returned to her room with the bodyguard at her side. No one has seen Hugh.
Fanculo.
Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine, I chant in my head, but full-body prickles tell me it’s not true. Everything is about as fucking far from fine as it can get.
Pepper
When Hugh says I should be dead, my brain registers the threat, but my limbs won’t react. I get up and stumble toward the door, only to have Hugh catch my arm roughly.
“Ouch,” I whine, tripping backward as he propels me toward the bed.
He looks deranged, like he’s on drugs or something. What in the hell is going on?
He pushes me and I fall onto my back on the mattress. Then Hugh’s on top of me, tearing open my shirt. Confusion swirls through my foggy brain. He wants me dead? Or he’s going to fuck me.
Oh God.
Omigod, omigod, omigod.
I’ve been here before.
I’ve been here, beneath Hugh, struggling to get him off.
More than once.
And like now, I couldn’t make my limbs move. Those times, he had sex with me and I wanted to puke. I couldn’t make it stop.
Not this time.
I shove at his chest with my hands.
He slaps my face, hard. “You think you have balls now, Pepper? Think you can talk back? Tell me no? You thought you could fire me? What a fucking joke. I made you into what you are. And your usefulness has ended, Pepper Heart. You’re worth more to me dead.”
He yanks up my skirt and pulls off my shorts and panties.
No! Not again. Never again.
This time is different. I don’t have to lie here and take it. I’m not going to let him fuck me.
Or kill me.
I don’t know how I do it, but somehow I muster the coordination to knee him in the balls.
He shouts and rears back. Then he grips my throat, cutting off my air, crushing my windpipe. Vaguely, I realize he’s trying to kill me.
I’m going to die.
I’m going to die and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I’m going to die and I never told Tony how I feel about him.
That I love him.
My vision starts to black out but I fight it.
Fight to reach something, anything.
My fingers catch the cord of the lamp and I drag it to me, closer. Wrap my fingers around the base. I swing. It thuds against his head. His fingers spring off me, surprise choking his expression.