Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Dalton grins up at Sawyer. “Look who’s running his mouth now,” he says before discreetly glancing at me, narrowing his gaze, and I try not to give myself away. “Alright, man, get out of here. She’ll wake up soon, and I don’t want her catching you in here. The longer she thinks I’m on her side, the better.”
Sawyer nods, glancing my way as well. “If she wakes up, try and get some information out of her. There’s a reason why she was chosen. The Circle wouldn’t have offered her up if she didn’t know something they wanted to keep quiet. These bastards would take every advantage they could get, and his sacrifice is the perfect opportunity. Two birds, one stone.”
The Circle? Who the fuck is The Circle?
Dalton nods. “My thoughts exactly.”
With that, Sawyer walks out of the concrete prison, pulling the door closed behind him, and the second the soft thud sounds through the room, I close my eyes, determined not to say a damn word.
Hours pass before I hear the sound of the door again, and this time, I can’t resist opening my eyes. All three of my captors walk in, just as intimidating as the first time I saw them.
They crowd near the door, assessing the room as I lift my head, locking my gaze onto Zade’s. His eyes are like lasers zeroing in on me, and I can’t help but notice small splatters of blood across his arms and clothes.
He takes a stride toward me and my whole body tenses, fear blasting through me as Cross and Sawyer remain situated by the door. I try to crawl away, yanking hard against my cuffs as Dalton’s roar rockets through the room. “Don’t fucking touch her,” he demands. “I swear, I’ll fucking kill you.”
His words mean nothing, and I violently shake my head, tears falling onto my cheeks. Blood drips from my wrists as I pull against my binding, and I watch as Zade’s sharp gaze takes it in, not missing a damn thing. “No,” I breathe as he crouches down before me, a twisted smirk settling onto his lips. I swallow hard, certain that this is it for me. Tonight, I die.
“Please, I swear, I didn’t do anything,” I cry, desperately trying to pull away from him. “I’ll give you whatever you want, just please—”
His hand shoots out, the same cloth he used outside my apartment clutched in his palm. I try to scream and turn my head, but he’s too strong, and within seconds, my world fades into darkness.
Chapter 11
OAKLEY
Consciousness comes back to me, and I open my eyes to the brightness of my apartment, the early morning sun streaming through the window.
I glance around, disoriented and confused as I find myself sprawled across the couch in the middle of the living room, my aching wrists now perfectly bandaged.
How the hell did I get back here? Was it all some kind of dream?
My head pounds and the same brain fog I experienced in the cement prison rears its ugly head once again, leaving me desperate to slip back into a peaceful state of unconsciousness. I feel like I’m coming off a night of excessive drinking and partying way too hard. God, I just wish I had some answers, but the only one I’ve got is that Dalton Eros is not who he says he is. Hell, that’s probably not even his real name.
My whole body hurts, and I try to piece together everything that’s happened over the last . . . shit, I don’t even know how long it has been. Was I trapped there one night? Two? I have no fucking idea.
I need to sleep this off but knowing those three assholes could be right across the hall messes with my head. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, unable to figure out what the hell they wanted with me. I just don’t get it. Why kidnap someone, lock her up in your creepy as fuck cement prison, then let her go so soon?
They didn’t hurt me. Didn’t touch me. Barely said a damn word.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never been so happy to wake up in my own apartment feeling as though I’d been roofied, but what was the point? Why kidnap someone and hold them captive, only to set them free? It doesn’t make sense.
A noise at the door sends me into a blind panic, and I shoot up from the couch with wide eyes as I grip the side of the couch, ready to launch myself up at a moment’s notice. I try to remember exactly where the knives are in the kitchen when I hear the familiar sound of a key slipping into the lock.
Oh, hell no. This is not happening again.
I dart through the small apartment on shaky legs, every slight movement making my head spin. I will not be caught off guard by these pricks again. This time I’ll be ready.