Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“We’re in this together, right? I just need your help understanding what this is.”
Was she even breathing? The threat that compelled her to ignore him could walk through the door any moment, which only fueled his impatience. “Look at me,” he shouted.
Her head snapped up. Finally! The deep set blue of her eyes widened, flitted to the door, and back to him.
“Hi.” He kept his smile soft and unassuming. “I’m Josh.”
“Your name is boy.” A whisper. “Please, stop talking.” From the thready plea, the tensing of her body, and the heave of her chest, she seemed to be crawling in her skin with fear.
Pressure swelled behind his ribs. “Hey, it’s okay.” He stretched his arms to reach for her. Impossible. He let them drop, his elbows bent on either side of his head. “We’re just chatting. What’s your name?”
“Girl.”
He had to strain his hearing to make out her heartbreaking whisper. Commands were clearly more effective than questions. He hardened his voice. “Give me your birth name.”
She glanced at the door, and the nervous twitches in her cheeks tightened his chest. At least she wasn’t peeking around the room at hidden cameras. Perhaps Liv had been honest about no recording devices. Or maybe the girl was as in the dark as he was.
Her attention dropped to the floor between them. “Kate.”
Kate. The excited race of his heart redoubled as he considered what to ask, or demand, next. How much time did he have? Something had been tightly stretched between their captors when they left. Perhaps they were just eating lunch. Or planning the next training session. Maybe they were having sex.
He slammed his teeth together. Good grief. Where the hell did that thought come from? “Tell me about the relationship between Van and Liv.”
With another peek at the door, she shook her head.
Did the huddle of her shoulders mean this subject terrified her? “Does he force you or Liv to have sex with him?”
Her chin lowered, her body returning to its earlier frozen state.
Dammit, now he was glancing at the door, the hairs on his nape standing on end. What bothered him wasn’t the hostility vibrating from Van so much as the song humming from Liv’s throat when she ran out.
She’d sung in his truck as she’d led him into this nightmare. She’d sung when he was in the box, right before she closed the lid. Singing seemed to be a mechanism she employed when something bad was about to happen. So what was going to happen? What made her bolt from the room? All of his questions liquefied to one conclusion. “Van’s in charge, not Liv. She puts on a good show, but the fact is he’s a rapist—”
“Master is not a rapist.” Her eyes flashed to his, lit with fire, her words heated and rushed. “He doesn’t touch me like that, because he loves Mistress, and she loves him.”
What? No way in unholy hell did Liv love that man. His insides twisted and turned at the idea, and it pained him to see Kate’s perception so emotionally distorted by what she’d been through. And what did she mean, he didn’t touch her like that? Forcibly or not all? “You’ve been here a month? Two months?”
She shrugged, and it was wooden and completely absent of hope. “I don’t know.”
Was he staring at the harbinger of his own future mental state? How would his judgment fare after ten weeks of captivity? His head ached, and his impatience with her and the chains that held him set his skin on fire. He rolled his arms in a useless attempt to escape the shackles. “I want to help you, Kate. Please, talk—”
The door clicked open. Rage cinched his throat and accelerated his pulse. He lowered his head with a frustrated jerk and glared at the floor.
Chapter 18
Josh’s breathing grew heavier, louder. His body temperature boiled from his blood to his skin.
Liv’s bare feet skimmed over the floor and passed by his knees. Van’s sneakers trailed close behind. They stopped at the cot, and the mattress creaked under Van’s weight, a plate of food balancing on his lap. Josh’s stomach gave a miserable groan.
“Tell me what I missed, girl.” The cool clip of Liv’s voice sliced the air, but there was a strained edge to it. “I want to hear every word that was uttered.”
Surely her other slaves talked and even befriended each other when they were alone. Did she punish them for it? Locking his eyes on her feet was pure torture. He wanted to read her face, observe what wasn’t being vocalized. In the outer edge of his vision, Van raised a sandwich toward Kate’s mouth.
“He said his parents are cotton farmers. He plays football at Baylor…” Between meager bites and swallows, she repeated the conversation verbatim with much better recollection than his own. When every morsel was consumed, and all of his words betrayed, she finished with, “I told him Master wasn’t a…rapist, that you love each other.”