Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
A light breeze blew the dirt up into the air, swishing the sand around my feet. It blew the strange flags that hung from the buildings, the material flapping gently.
It was quiet, only a few men walking around the barren town. Many of them looked similar to Meister—they wore the same harsh black tattoos on their skin, had similar shorn haircuts. The coloring was the same; they wore similar clothes.
And they all stared at me.
Meister stiffened when one male passed and cast me a leering smile. He stepped forward, using his massive frame as a weapon of intimidation. “Get the fuck on before I break your motherfucking neck, cunt!” he snarled, sending the other male running into the large building whose sign read “Saloon”.
Meister wrenched me forward. I could tell by his aggressive hold that he was greatly displeased.
I stifled a moan as his hand bruised the skin on my arm. I did not know where we were going. I was simply grateful to be outside. We had barely taken a few steps when a loud shout and the sound of a gun shattered the silence.
My head snapped to the right, to the building where the noise had come from. Meister ground on his heel, his grip tightening.
“Fuck,” he spat when a man came barreling through the building’s door.
“Meister!” the man called. “Problem!”
Meister’s lip curled, and he gave a low growl of annoyance. He hauled me back toward the door of the shack he kept me in. My heart plummeted; I was to be locked away once again.
I gulped in as much air as I could, pathetically trying to savor its freshness and the velvet touch of the breeze as it lapped over my face. Another shot fired, and the call for Meister came again, even louder this time.
Meister groaned in frustration and slammed me back against the wall of the shack. The air was ripped from my lungs by the impact. Before I even had a chance to recover, Meister’s firm grip was caging my face, and his blue eyes bored into mine. “Stay here. Don’t even dare move until I get back.”
“Yes . . . sir,” I managed to reply.
Meister crushed his cruel mouth against my lips. He did not want to kiss; he simply wanted to ravage my mouth. He pulled back and darted across the dirt to the building which housed the trouble. The sign above the door read “Dentist”.
I slumped against the fragile wooden wall and cleared the water from my eyes. As if my body could do nothing but obey his command, I remained rigid and unmoving.
In the quiet, I allowed my eyes to scan the area. My head ached, and my mouth was dry. But worse, my arm itched, and my veins had already begun to swell with the need for Meister’s potion.
And I was tired. I was so, so tired . . .
Movement from across the dirt path grabbed my attention, and my head snapped up as I caught sight of a man hurrying from one of the buildings, dragging someone behind him.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see more clearly. My eyes were getting so blurry, tiredness beginning to take hold . . . and then everything snapped into focus.
A blond-haired young woman. A white dress, the exact same design as the one I wore. Shocked at the very fact that I was not the only female in this place, I took a step forward. Just as I did, the woman pulled back from the man, fighting to get free.
She slipped from his grip, and as she did she turned, giving me a glimpse of her face. The recognition hit me like a blow to the head. I felt the blood drain from my cheeks, my limbs growing weak as I fought to remain upright.
No . . . no, no, no, no . . .
I rubbed my eyes, trying to see her better. I prayed that I was mistaken. I prayed . . . I shook my head, convincing myself I was wrong.
But I knew that face.
I loved that face . . .
Horror, devastation and a gamut of every sorrowful feeling swept through me like a hurricane as the male grabbed the girl by her hair and slapped her across the face. The girl swayed on her feet, then, unable to do anything else, she was dragged in the male’s wake toward a large barn-type building.
A girl.
Because she was a young girl.
No more than . . . I racked my brain, trying to remember, trying to clear this ever-present fog from my brain and grab on to some facts, some truths that had existed before Meister had burned them all away with his potion and his pain.
Fourteen . . . I thought as my eyes widened and my heart beat an impossible rhythm. My hands shook as I recalled the girl’s face to my mind, connected the memories to the present. Her long blond hair, her slim body, her dark-brown eyes . . .