Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
The fork was pretty much the best protection I could find. The second thing I found was a lamp with a heavy bottom. Taking off the shade, I do a few trial swings with it. I can do this. My anxiety is through the roof. I’ve never hurt a person before, never punched someone, never drew blood, and now I’m about to try and take out a guy bigger than me with a lamp.
A few minutes later, I hear the door at the top of the stairs open. Oh, god. With the lamp clamped tightly in my hand, I scurry across the room and hide next to the stairs. I flatten myself against the wall and say a silent prayer. My heart is pounding so loudly I fear he might hear it. Sweat forms against my palms as I adjust my grip while listening to him descend the steps.
You can do this. It’s this or nothing.
His body comes into view, and I see that his arms are full of grocery bags. Perfect. Shutting all rational thinking down, I move out of my hiding spot and swing the lamp at his head just as he turns in my direction.
I catch him across the face instead of the back of the head like I had planned. The lamp smashing into the side of his face.
Shit! My hands tremble as I drop the lamp to the floor at the same time, he drops the grocery bags. I take an instinctive step back when he lifts a hand to his face in slow motion. When he pulls his hand away, I see red on his fingers.
Blood. He’s bleeding. My lungs burn, and I freeze. The look in his eyes is murderous, rooting me in place and turning the blood in my veins to ice. All I can think is, this is it, this is where he kills me. Where he beats me and ties me to the bed. Where I die a slow, painful death.
“Fuck, I told you to be good.” He’s almost growling like an animal, his lip is curled as he takes a threatening step toward me.
“Please.” I lift my hands to protect my face because I know what’s coming. I know he’s going to hurt me. Bracing for the pain, I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut.
Except the pain never comes. Instead, he tenderly grabs my hands and lowers them while gently nudging me backward. In that moment, fear roots me to the floor, and I’m not sure I could scream or run away even if I wanted to. When my back collides with the wall, the air in my lungs expels, and I know I’m trapped.
I haven’t known my captor long, but I already know that with him, I’m always trapped. I look anywhere but at his face. I don’t want to see the cut or the bruise on his cheek. I’m not a violent person, and I hate that this situation has made me into someone I’m not.
His hand comes out of nowhere, and I flinch as he pinches my chin between two fingers, forcing me to look into his eyes. Dark black pools of nothingness reflect back at me.
If there is anything I’ve learned about Zane, it’s that he is unreadable. Like a lake, you can’t see the bottom, but you know there’s something there beneath the surface. Lurking in the dark, deep waters. You just aren’t sure what it is. That’s Zane.
Releasing my chin, he drags his knuckles over my cheek before he cups it. The gesture is gentle, kind, and it confuses me. I’d expected his rage, his anger, fury, but kindness? No way.
“It doesn’t matter what you do to me, Dove. I will never put my hands on you in any way to cause you harm. I will never hurt you.” He leans into me, so close that I can feel his hot breath on my lips.
This strange heat blooms in my belly, and my gaze darts from his eyes and down to his full lips and back again. I’m riding a teeter-totter of emotions and toeing the line between what is right and wrong. This is wrong, bad. I want to kiss him, to let him consume me, to taste his venom on my lips, but I don’t understand why. I’m terrified, but also curious. I shouldn’t let my captor kiss me or touch me, but a very strange part of me craves him.
As if he can read my mind, his lips descend on mine. Lifting my hands, I rest them against his chest. Do I want to stop him? My brain says, push him away, but my heart tells me to hold him close. My entire body trembles at the gentle brush of his top lip over mine before his bottom lip caresses mine.