Total pages in book: 14
Estimated words: 13056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 65(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 13056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 65(@200wpm)___ 52(@250wpm)___ 44(@300wpm)
It was clear which one she was because she definitely wasn’t military.
“Hey,” I called. Jennifer groaned and slowly lifted her head, squinting at me through slitted eyes. I set her food on the chair Blink had been sitting in earlier before lightly tapping her cheek. “Wake up, princess. You need to eat.”
She licked her chapped lips, waking up a little more. “Food?” she croaked.
“Yeah.” I arched a brow at her sleepy face. “If I untie you, are you gonna attack me?”
She scoffed, a frown marring her pretty features. “I can barely throw a punch, Carver. I’m not going to attack you.”
I didn’t like that, which was weird because I didn’t want her to attack me. But still, knowing she didn’t know how to defend herself was a little worrisome. And that was probably why I was able to subdue her so easily last night.
After cutting the ties around her wrists, I inspected them, frowning at the split-open skin. They would scar, but wasn’t shit I could do about that—not when she was going right back in another set of zip ties as soon as she was done eating. I wouldn’t chance her escaping—not if Blink wanted her to remain here.
Even if that meant I had to play the fucking babysitter.
I handed her the plate of food, watching as she quickly began to scarf it down. I wasn’t even sure if she was chewing the food completely before swallowing it. Hell, was she even tasting it?
“When’s the last time you ate?” I asked her.
She paused, glancing up at me beneath dark lashes, her pretty blue eyes wide. She settled her plate on her lap, looking like she was thinking. I clenched my jaw, trying to contain the anger swelling in my chest.
Just how bad had the situation been that she’d left?
“A day or two ago, I think,” she admitted. “I was on foot for a while.”
On foot… she’d literally escaped her father. Jesus Christ.
“Eat, princess.” She quickly went back to eating. I didn’t say anything else until she’d cleared the plate. For a moment, I thought she might even lick it clean. Taking it from her, I handed her the bottle of water. “Do you remain with your old man by free will?”
She shook her head, gulping down the water. A little leaked down her chin, and my fingers twitched with the urge to wipe it away. Or lick it away.
Fuck, I needed to get my shit together. I couldn’t want the traitor like this. I couldn’t. She was off limits.
“No,” she rasped once the water bottle was empty. I took it from her, setting it on the plate to dispose of upstairs. “Like I said… I don’t get to go out much.”
“And by that, you mean he’s holding you prisoner.” She shrugged one slim shoulder. “Why?” I demanded, becoming angry on her behalf.
She huffed, looking tired and frustrated. “I don’t know. Mom left when I was a kid. Maybe he thinks I’ll leave, too?” She frowned. “I do all the cooking and cleaning. Record when they have a woman willing to do a sex tape.” She shrugged. “Maybe he just doesn’t want to have to find someone else to do all that?”
A low growl rumbled from my chest. “Are the women willing or drugged?”
She shrugged again, but this time, she didn’t speak. I rolled my jaw around before standing to my full height and moving around the chair. She silently slid her arms back into place, and I slid the zip ties around her wrists again, hating the blood that immediately coated them. But I tamped down the urge to take care of her.
Still, once she was bound again—and my dick was pressing into my zipper because fuck, there was something about her being at my mercy that I really fucking liked—I gripped her chin, forcing her blue eyes on mine. “You’re not going back, Jennifer.”
With that, I snatched up the plate and stormed up the stairs, my insides in a fucking turmoil.
4
Carver
Rain pounded on the tin roof above my head, a constant drum beat to roll with the rhythm of the rain coming down, though it wasn’t near loud enough to drown out my thoughts. Jennifer had been in my head all fucking evening after I talked to her in the basement. It’d pissed me off having to leave her down there, but the rest of the guys didn’t trust her. I knew they couldn’t risk her lying to us and hurting Lindsey or Eric, the boy we’d sort of taken in. But my gut told me Jennifer wasn’t lying. That she was a victim, too.
And I knew the moment Blink decided to let her back out into the world, she may very well die if her father found out where she’d been. In our territory. Under our roof. In our fucking basement.