Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
We stared at each other for a long second before he started walking around the table. I moved to the side, keeping close to the wall as I edged away from him.
Kostya didn’t charge at me, but he was watching me as if he were a predator about to pounce on its prey.
Just get close to the door. Run outside. You can shout, scream, run as fast as you can.
I didn’t care that I was in my pajamas or barefoot. I didn’t care if there was nothing out there to save me. I refused to stay here with Kostya. No… Ruin. His new name suited him well.
We kept playing this dance of movements, with him taking a step closer and me edging to the side and away from him. And then I got to the couch, the leather smooth as I gripped the back of it, never once taking my focus off him.
“You’re so sick,” I finally said. “How many times did you sneak into my bedroom?” I felt my heart thundering in my chest. “Did you sneak in to take my stuff, bring it back here, and jerk off like the pervert you are?” I was trying to keep him occupied and didn’t want him to catch on to what I was moving toward.
“I did break into your apartment. Many… many times.”
Coldness washed over me, and for a moment, I was frozen in place as I just stared at him.
“I broke in and I took a pair of your panties first.” He took a step toward me and I moved one step to the side. “Then I took your perfume.”
Another move toward me. I was so close to the door. So close.
My breath caught. “You’re not Kostya—”
“I haven’t been Kostya for a very long time, sweetheart.” One more step toward me. “I don’t even need to tell you how disgusting I am.” He smirked and there wasn’t anything pleasant about it. “Because you already guessed it, baby. You know exactly what I did with your panties.”
The air rushed out of me as he confirmed the depraved shit he did.
I didn’t hesitate, just turned and ran the remaining few feet toward the door, wrenched it open, and then I was rushing down the porch and into the dark night.
My feet were screaming in pain thirty seconds after I hit the ground running. Pebbles and sticks, and debris, littered across the forest that surrounded wherever I was, digging into the soles of my feet.
But I moved faster, pumping my arms harder. And I could hear him behind me, the heavy fall of his booted feet coming closer and closer, the image of that huge body taking up the space so that soon there would just be him.
He came in closer… and closer…
And then I screamed out when I felt his body connect with mine. I was propelled forward, bracing myself for impact, but right before I hit the ground he shifted us so he was the one who took the brunt force of the fall, my body landing on his chest.
The air whooshed out of me, and I scrambled off, trying to push away from him. But his arms were like vises around me, locking me in tight against his hardness.
“Stop fighting,” he growled against my ear and I shivered, warring emotions rising up in me.
I didn’t want to like the feel of him. I didn’t want to like the wild, spicy scent that came from him and surrounded me.
I didn’t want to have my mind and body soften toward the boy I once knew, the boy whom I once loved with all my heart.
Because that’s not who held me right now. Not anymore.
“I said I’m not going to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you.” His voice had gone harder, huskier, sharp like a blade scraping over my skin yet he didn’t cause pain.
He was right. He could’ve hurt me, ten times over. He could’ve done unspeakable things to me when I was passed out.
But that didn’t excuse any of the things he’d already done to me.
“You already have,” I screamed and started crying, something opening up inside of me that I couldn’t stop.
Before I knew what was happening, he was off the ground and lifting me into his arms.
I struggled again before he hauled me over his shoulder like I was a bag of flour.
I beat on his back as he started toward the house. I felt a sharp slap on my ass.
“Ahhh,” I screamed. The fucker just spanked me. Spanked me! “You bastard,” I cried out, my anger so strong it was like a living entity in me. He gave my ass another stinging slap and I gritted my teeth.
“Fight me all you want. Get it all out if it makes you feel better and gets us past this.” His voice was harsh and rough as if he were angry, but for some reason I knew it wasn’t directed at me. “Because no one is filled with as much rage as I am, Anastasia.”