Total pages in book: 16
Estimated words: 14994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 75(@200wpm)___ 60(@250wpm)___ 50(@300wpm)
He leaned over me, his hands braced on either side of my head. His lips brushed mine. “Parrish,” he rumbled.
I slowly blinked my eyes open. “Huh?”
He laughed again, shaking his head. “Parrish. My last name is Parrish, darlin’.”
“Oh,” I mumbled. I nodded my head and snuggled further under the blankets. “M’kay. ‘Night.”
“Adorable,” he whispered. He brushed his lips to my cheek before he stood up again. I was asleep before he left the room.
A shift in the air made me wake up. I slowly sat up, blinking around the dark room. I strained my ears, listening for any noises. After living in foster care for the majority of my childhood, I had grown a sort of internal radar and alarm inside of my body. Even while I was asleep, I could sense a change in the environment, which always woke me up.
A curse met my ears. I quickly dressed in the clothes I found at the end of the bed, my mind still running a bit sluggish. By the time the bedroom door opened, I was pulling my shirt over my head.
“Where are you going?” Damien asked me as he came to a halt, staring at me.
He flicked on the light, momentarily blinding me. I shielded my eyes and then slowly blinked, letting my eyes adjust to the brightness.
As soon as my eyes adjusted, I took him in. The once-white shirt he’d been wearing under his black button-down was splattered with blood, as were his jeans. My eyes widened in horror, and I stumbled backward, vomit rising in my throat.
Run. That voice in my head was loud as fuck now, making sure I heard it and paid it attention. I was no longer blind.
Damien wasn’t just a bad boy. No; he was something else entirely.
I should have listened to my brain. I should have run. I should have taken note of every bit of danger that had lurked in his eyes.
But I hadn’t, and now, I’d slept with a man who was a monster.
He stared at me, but he blocked my exit. I trembled, fear crawling through my veins.
What the fuck had I gotten myself into?
“Hayley . . .”
I wrapped my arms around myself to hide my shaking hands, though I was sure he could tell how terrified I was. “I want to leave,” I whispered. I couldn't make my voice go any louder. The fear pulsing through my veins prevented it.
He stepped toward me, but his massive frame still blocked the only exit in the room. I swallowed thickly, taking a step back for every step forward he made until I stupidly backed myself up against the wall. He braced a hand on one side of me, his massive frame towering over me. With his free hand, he gripped my chin, dragging my eyes up to his. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
I fisted my hands under my arms. “You have blood on you,” I whispered like he didn’t already know that.
“And the fucker deserved it,” he said with a shrug. There wasn’t an ounce of sympathy in his eyes—or any other emotion, for that matter. He just said it with cold, flat finality.
Tears burned in my eyes—tears of fear. Panic clawed at my throat. My chin wobbled. “Damien—”
“Easy,” he rasped, cupping the side of my neck. A tear ran unbidden down my cheek. “Hayley, I will never hurt you.”
“But you hurt someone else,” I whispered. And though he claimed otherwise, what would stop him from hurting me, too?
I was a bit wild. I knew that. I was a bit eccentric and weird.
But hurting someone was crossing a line for me.
I pushed against his chest, but he didn’t budge. Panicked tears slid down my cheeks. “Move!” I shouted, shoving against his chest. “Let me go!”
He shoved me harder against the wall, his hand around my throat. My large eyes snapped up to his. My heart was hammering against my chest, the pulse in my neck beating roughly against his hand. “Hayley, you’re testing my patience,” he warned, his voice deadly quiet.
I hiccupped. “I want to go home,” I cried.
He gritted his teeth and ran his eyes over my face. “Fuck,” he swore as he shoved back from me. He ran his hand roughly through his hair. “You breathe a word of what you saw or heard tonight to anyone—”
“I won’t,” I blurted, and I meant it. I wanted to forget this ever happened. I wanted to forget the blood, his words about someone deserving this. I wanted to forget dinner and sleeping with him.
I wanted to forget this man even existed.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call you an Uber,” he grunted. “You can wait outside for it.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. I snatched my shoes and socks off the floor and rushed out of the house.