Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I glance around, taking in the small individual rooms, the open door to a bathroom area, and another room that must have been used for the staff. It’s huge compared to my place, but the windows are too high on the walls to look out of and are heavily reinforced with bars. There’s nothing to make the place homely.
“Wait here,” he says. “I’m going to bring them down.”
When he reaches the door, he turns to me. “You don’t have a bag.”
Has he only just noticed? I was in such a rush to register for the auction that I left my small bag on Josh’s motorbike, and the warden whisked me off before I could go back for it. I shake my head.
“You won’t need many clothes,” he says, more to himself than to me. “But I’ll find you a toothbrush and a towel. There’s soap in the bathroom.”
When he punches the code back in to leave, and the door slides open with a loud clink, I rest against the cool wall and bite back tears.
I won’t need many clothes.
The reality of what I’ve signed up for grabs me like a murderer’s hands around my neck, and the men aren’t even here yet. How will I hold myself together when I finally face them?
With the warden gone, I rush around to get a proper sense of the place, ending in the bathroom, where I gaze at my face in the mirror, startled by my appearance. My eyes are so heavily ringed with dark shadow that they look almost black, shuttering my emotions. The red of my lips has worn from the center, making them appear swollen and bruised. My neck is flushed with a nervous rash that I try to cool with water before dabbing myself dry with a paper towel. I’m breathing so hard that the sound echoes around me like the room itself is gasping.
I barely have time to steady my nerves before heavy footsteps approach. Warden Grady’s gruff voice bounces off the walls as he nears with the men. My pulse quickens, and my mouth goes dry. I try to stand straighter, arms clenched tightly around myself, bracing for the moment when I’ll finally meet the men who now control my fate for the next thirty days.
The code pad makes its shrill beeps, and then the door releases and is pushed roughly open. Warden Grady steps through first, his face unreadable, though there’s a grim determination in his eyes. He knows he’s gone too far now, and there’s no going back.
Behind him, the men file in one by one, instantly filling the space with their intense presence.
The first man to enter is huge, his shoulders broad and filling the doorway, casting a long shadow across the room. His light brown hair is cropped short, showing off the hard angles of his jawline and the deep-set blue eyes that flick over me with a sharp intensity. His movements have raw power and fluidity as he gives me a slow once-over, his expression guarded. His tattooed biceps strain against the fabric of his prison uniform as he drops a small duffel bag to the ground with a thud.
Behind him, another man follows, and the energy in the room shifts. Where the first is all cold control, this man is jittery. His dark, unruly hair falls into his eyes, but it’s those eyes that hold me captive. There’s something wild in their dark green depths, a flicker of madness that dances beneath the surface, shifting from cold calculation to something far darker. His lips twitch into a half-smile, but it’s not reassuring. It’s the kind of smile that makes you wonder if you’re about to become a target or a meal. He tosses his bag next to the duffel with casual indifference, his eyes never leaving mine.
And then the final man makes his entrance, towering above even the first. His massive frame moves with surprising fluidity like he could have been a dancer in another life. His skin is a warmer brown, and his dark, curly hair is tied at the back in a knot. There’s an undeniable strength in how he carries himself, but his eyes tell a different story. They’re guarded but not hostile, more observant than anything else, like he’s constantly assessing the situation, looking for threats and weaknesses. He nods at me, his jaw tight behind a thick beard, keeping his bag on his shoulder and clutching a small paperback in his huge hand.
The tension in the room is palpable as the three of them wait, their postures different but communicating the same thing: they’re dangerous, and I’ve willingly walked into their world.
Warden Grady clears his throat, snapping me out of my daze. “Lory, this is Kinkaid, Hyde, and Rock.” Turning to Kinkaid, the first man, he fixes him with an intense stare. “You know the deal. You’re responsible for her. She’s here for you, and it’s up to you to keep her safe.”