Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
“Fuck Whitney,” Haidyn states.
“Haidyn!” I growl.
He steps out from behind his desk and walks over to Ashtyn. She glares up at him with her shoulders squared. “Bones isn’t the one who ratted you out. Whitney was.”
“No.” She shakes her head.
“She’s here. In a cell in the basement. Ask her yourself.” He goes on.
“Haidyn!” I shout. What the fuck? Her talking to Whitney is the last thing I fucking want to happen.
He turns to face me. “Let her see.” Haidyn shrugs carelessly. “Whitney gave her up to save herself.” He turns back to Ashtyn. “She’s a coward, just like you. No wonder you two were besties.” With that, he storms out of the office, slamming the door shut behind him.
The room fills with her heavy breathing, and when her eyes meet mine, I can see unshed tears in them.
“You didn’t answer my other question.” She lifts her chin, trying to act like she’s not about to cry.
I cross my arms over my chest and just stare at her. I’m not going to either. Let her think whatever she wants.
The first tear falls from her bottom lashes, and she turns around, giving me her back, and rushes out of the room.
“Fuck!” I hiss.
“Saint—”
My phone ringing interrupts whatever Kashton was about to tell me. I’m not in the mood to talk to him right now anyway. “Hello?” I snap into the phone.
“Hey, just wanted to let you know we’re about five minutes out,” the Lord states on the other end.
Goddammit, I forgot they were coming today. “Okay.”
FIFTY-FIVE
ASHTYN
I run down the hall to see Haidyn waiting for the elevator. “I want to see her.”
He chuckles. “Don’t believe me?”
Reaching up, I grab his shirt and pull on it. He spins around and steps into me. “Watch it—”
“I want to see her.” I interrupt him. “Now.”
He rubs his chin, then nods. “Okay.”
We enter the elevator and take it down to the basement in silence. Stepping off, I follow him down the long and cold hallway, through the plastic strips that hang in the doorway. We pass a few prison cells that have full concrete doors. The only way to see inside are the little slots that they feed them through. Water and bread are all they get. Well, that’s what they were fed when I was here last time.
He comes to a stop at a cell and punches in some numbers on a keypad. When it unlocks, he pushes the door open, making me flinch due to the loud squeeze that echoes through the basement.
“Go ahead.” Haidyn gestures with his hand. “But I’m not sure she’ll tell you anything.”
I move to stand in front of the open door, refusing to go inside it. I’m not that desperate for information. A brunette lies on a stretcher, like the one I remember being strapped to. She’s also wearing a straitjacket, staring up at the concrete ceiling.
My feet move me forward into the cell, and my pulse races. “Whitney?” I ask roughly.
Her head snaps to the side, cold eyes meeting mine and stopping me in my tracks. I swallow the knot in my throat when I see the 666 branded on the side of her face. It’s bigger than the one I have on my body. It looks fresh—red and irritated.
She sits up, and I take a step back, half expecting her to run at me. “What…what did they do to you?” I ask softly. Is she here because of me? Did I do this to her? She’s the only one I ever contacted after I left. I felt so alone. I was depressed. I just needed someone…
Four Years Ago
I sit on the floor in my hotel room, staring out of the floor-to-ceiling window. A bottle of pills next to me and there’s another bottle to my right but it’s full of vodka. I throw it back and only part of it makes it into my mouth. The rest runs down my naked body.
The door slamming shut makes me flinch. I just fucked a man for money. That’s not the part that makes me feel worthless. It’s the fact he wasn’t Saint. I know Haidyn and Kashton used me, but it never felt wrong. Saint was always right there with me.
This was different. Lonely.
I pick up the burner phone that I have and stare at it. I’ve dialed Saint’s number so many times just to see if anyone answers. It’s the unknown that’s eating me alive. Did I kill him? Did he survive? If so, is he looking for me?
It doesn’t matter. He can never find me. It doesn’t matter if I’m no longer pregnant. I can’t go back and undo what I did. What I was accused of…
I lie down on my back and hold my phone up in front of my face with shaking hands and dial the one number I know I can trust. It’s a gamble, but I just need to know…