Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Stroking my jawline with warm fingers, he mutters thoughtfully, “I know.”
“I’m cold.” My voice breaks as I confess quietly, as though the statement is a dreadful secret, and as if to make a point, my teeth chatter uncontrollably.
He stands, looking down at me, and for a moment, his expression hardens. I can’t help but wonder if the mild anger displayed on his handsome face is there due to what is happening to me, or him, for letting this happen. He blinks, watching me with his mouth drawn tight, then sighs audibly and walks over to the tallboy by the door. He opens a drawer and returns with a small set of keys and a switchblade.
The sight of the small knife has my stomach dipping severely and my heart racing and, immediately, my crying stops, the agony replaced with panic and dread. Even if I wanted to get away, my useless body can hardly move. I watch him turn the key and smoothly free my hands. I shift to sit, but he presses me down with a firm hand. “Don’t move yet. When the circulation comes back, you’re going to be in a world of pain, girl.”
He works quietly, using the knife to cut away the electrical tape that joins my palms, peeling it off carefully. A certain warmth spreads through my torso at the tenderness of his actions and, for one insane moment, I want to thank him for his kindness, but before I’m able to, he sits on the bed against the headboard and lifts me, dragging me into the space between his legs with my back to his bare chest.
Instinct has me struggling, body rigid, and muttering a rattled, “No, no, no,” when the circulation in my arms begins to return, and my entire body feels as though I’m singeing, burning up, from the inside out. As liquid lightning strikes me all over, tearing me apart from the middle and forcing my body to tremble angrily, a hoarse scream is torn from my throat. But Julius doesn’t punish me for my outburst like I assume he will.
Instinct has taught me that the majority of men can’t be trusted and will betray you given the chance. His reaction would puzzle me had I not been in gut-wrenching misery. Rather than smack me around for the noise, he shushes me as if he would a child, rubbing my arms determinedly with his warm hands, holding my shaking body still.
The pain is too much, has gone on for too long, and my head spins. The fight leaves me, and bright white light dances in front of my eyes. My stomach coils then lurches as my body weakens, my head lolling back onto a hard shoulder. I feel Julius go rigid behind me, but he says nothing.
It’s all I can do to keep breathing.
Hours pass, or at least it feels like they do, and I stare blankly at the wall on the opposite side of the room, blinking slowly as the pain lessens, working its way out of me. Julius continues to rub my arms in complete silence, gentler now, as I gather my bearings.
My face wet with tears, I continue to stare into nothingness, my breathing hitching every now and again at the memory of the pain of the last few years of my life.
Just above a whisper, I breathe out, “Please, Mr. Carter.” His large hands still at my elbows, cupping them lightly in silent acknowledgment. Perhaps I should feel a small amount of shame at our current position. I don’t, but maybe I should. If someone walked in on us at this moment, they might think we were lovers. “Please,” I repeat, and fresh tears stain my cheeks. “Free me or kill me.” My body begins to shake as I close my eyes and cry out years of pent-up sadness. With my head still resting back on his shoulder, my voice cracks once again, as I utter quietly, “I’m sorry. So sorry. It’s my fault. I didn’t know this would happen. I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t speak for a long while, but when he does, it isn’t at all what I want to hear. “You fucked up.” To lessen the blow of his next words, he resumes rubbing my arms, slowly, speaking gently. “Now you live with the consequences.”
Something tells me Julius is about as real as a man comes. I risk asking something very stupid.
Turning from the V of his legs, I sit sideways in the gap between them, my legs resting on one strong thigh. I must look a mess, but Julius looks me in the eye, unconcerned about my emotional state. My bottom lip trembling, I can’t seem to stop the tears from falling as I reach out to touch his forearm, and ask, “What would you do if you were me?”