Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
And I needed him to know that.
Even if only subconsciously.
I am not just another number, another girl, another one of the House’s sinners.
I am a girl whose freedom was robbed from her right in front of her.
And I would rather die than go back to imprisonment.
I swallow down the last bit of my food and pick up both our plates to bring them to the kitchen. As I clean the table with the cleanest cloth I could find, Soren stares at me while casually leaning back in his chair like he wants something from me but refuses to ask, and I hate it.
I hate how he looks at me … and what it does to my body.
How it makes me yearn to hear that grumpy voice again that makes the goose bumps scatter on my skin.
“What?” I bark after I can’t take it anymore.
A hint of a smile tips up the corner of his mouth. Still, he doesn’t say a word.
I frown, putting my hands against my side. “Well … stop looking at me like that.”
“How?”
I don’t know whether he’s asking me what kind of way he’s looking at me … or if he’s asking me how he can stop.
And for some reason, the thought makes my whole body heat.
A blush creeps onto my cheeks, but I will it away and sigh out loud. “I … need to freshen up.”
Without saying another word, I hurriedly open each of the doors until I find the bathroom, where I lock the door behind me and slam the back of my head against the wood.
Stop it, April. Just stop. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Especially not for a guy like him.
No matter how hard it becomes. No matter how badly your body responds to him.
Do not give in.
I blow out a big breath and look at myself in the grimy mirror, wiping away some of the dirt with water that luckily still runs from the faucet. I’m a mess, and I look the part, and seeing myself in the mirror only makes me want to cry.
April, the girl who once dreamed of having her own bakery … now in the hands of men who want to use her for their own gain. How did it ever come to this?
Oh right, because I had the audacity to want to go to a meetup in an underground venue where they spoke about God. I needed guidance after a tough breakup … Instead, I got taken and thrown into a cell.
All because they wanted me for my body.
I was a girl they could marry off to some random man I’d never met, so he could fuck me and make me have his babies.
The thought makes all the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
I rub my cheeks and splash some water onto my face, trying to erase the memories.
I am a new person now.
Not just a girl who was discarded … but a girl with a fierce passion for life.
And I’ll be damned if I ever have to give it up all because of a man.
I take another deep breath and head out the door. Soren’s now lying on the couch with a blanket covering his body. I open the door to the bedroom where there’s one king-size bed, the bedding still intact as if no one ever slept here. The other door leads to a closet filled with supplies.
Guess I’ll take the bed then since he already parked himself on the couch.
Still, as I head inside, he throws me a grumbling sound.
“Wait.”
I pause and wait with my back to him.
Suddenly, his body presses against mine, and his thumb brushing down my arm sets off a blazing fire within me.
He grips my hand and brings it to his face, inspecting the red marks around my wrist. Then he holds out some lotion that he probably found in his bag and squirts it on there, rubbing it in.
I tug my hand away and stutter, “Y-you d-didn’t have to do that.”
He cocks his head. “Yeah, I do.”
The way he says it, so resolute and full of devotion, makes me swallow hard. He doesn’t sugarcoat it, doesn’t try to hide that he actually does … care.
And something about that makes me melt into a puddle.
Fuck.
“Uh … good night,” I murmur as I tuck my hair behind my ear and quickly tiptoe into the room, trying to shut the door.
However, he wedges his foot in the doorway. “Don’t close it.”
His eyes burn with that same fire I feel in my own body, and it’s almost impossible to tear my eyes away.
And for a second there, I almost, almost feel like he’s about to lean in and kiss me.
But then he turns around and marches off to the couch again, and I’m left with clenched thighs and a confused mind.
Did he tell me to keep this open because he wants to keep tabs on me so I don’t escape?