Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Thinking that I’m asleep, I hear her get up from her position on the far side of the couch. She’s been sitting in that same spot for three hours. It’s well after midnight, so she must be fucking tired, but sleep won’t be coming easy for her, not tonight at least. I’m not so much of a monster that I can’t see that she’s freaking out. She’s fucking terrified. She doesn’t know what’s happening, where she’s going to end up, or what I even have planned for her, but she shouldn’t fear. I was telling her the truth when I said that I wasn't going to hurt her. I just need to keep her around for a little while, and if she still insists that she’s not the same girl I used to love, then I’ll let her go. But if she realizes what I already know to be true—then I’m taking my girl back and never letting her go.
She creeps across the bunker, and I hear her pause as the ground creeks beneath her. I can almost feel her eyes on me, making sure that she hasn’t ‘woken’ me. She takes a relieved breath when I don't move and continues her way through the kitchen. She rummages around in the cutlery drawer, and I grin to myself as I hear her pick up the Chinese takeout container that I’d left for her. I fucking knew she was hungry, but I also knew that she was way too stubborn to accept the food that I offered.
There’s a light squeal of the chair being dragged back from the dining table before she drops into it, seeming a little less concerned about waking me.
I listen as she practically forces the food down her throat as fast as possible in her rush to get back to what she’s deemed as her side of the bunker. I can’t help but laugh and have to cover it up as a light snore so that I don’t alarm her. If she knew I was awake, she’d freak the fuck out and race over to the couch, leaving her dinner behind. With what I have planned for her, she’s going to need as much energy as she can get.
Before I know it, I hear the sound of the fork scraping along the bottom of the container. It’s placed down on the table, and just to be an ass, she leaves it there for me to clean up. Roni takes herself back over to the couch, and I listen as she lowers herself back into it.
My eyes grow heavy, and feeling content that she’s not going to starve, I allow myself to finally go to sleep, knowing that at some point, she’ll find the courage to sleep too.
Memories of my time in prison come swarming through my dreams, visions of the men I’ve killed, strangled, beaten. Every last one is on a constant loop every time I close my eyes, a reminder of the terrible things I’ve done under the name of the Widows.
A familiar, soft click has my eyes snapping open and consciousness rushing back to me. My arm shoots out, my hand curling around the cool metal of the gun and pushing it away just moments before the bullet flies straight past my fucking head.
I stare up at Roni with tears in her eyes, looking horrified at what she just tried to do, but I don’t fucking blame her. If I were in her position, I would too. We stare at each other for a silent moment, my ears ringing from the shot, both our hearts racing.
I should have known that she would try something. The Roni that I knew was a fighter. She would never have just given up and let me play my twisted little games. That’s on me for turning my back, for assuming that she was just going to sit back and accept her fate. When in reality, if any of the fuckers in my life are equal to me, it’s her. She just doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll show her in time.
Roni starts to shake her head, fear shining in her eyes, not knowing how I’ll react. “I … I …”
My heart fucking breaks for her. This life isn’t an easy one, especially after being away from it for so long. I doubt she’s ever shot anyone before, and having me as her first target only proves that she has balls made of steel.
“Shhhh,” I soothe, tugging on the gun that’s still firmly in her hand. I pull her hard into me, and she collapses down on the bed. “It’s okay,” I tell her, wrapping her in my arms and feeling her head resting against my chest as her tears begin staining my shirt. “It’s not the first time a beautiful woman has tried to kill me in my sleep.”