Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I stared at the alleyway before me, the darkness creeping around, promising absolution, nothingness. That’s what I wanted, to just be swallowed whole.
This alley wasn’t where my problems stemmed from, just the one where the mystery man had taken control and “saved” me with a gun and unconcern. No, my problems had started when I was born into a world that didn’t want me, when I was introduced into a life that already hated me.
I looked up and into the “eye” of the security camera pointed at me.
I pushed the tears away with angry swipes to my cheeks. I wouldn’t cry for anything, for anyone, least of all myself. I’d gotten into this mess, and I’d figure out a way to get out of it.
Leaving. Running. That was my only option. They might find me, probably would if I was being honest, but they’d just take me here, now, anyway. Running would at least not make me a victim. It would make me a fighter, and that’s how I’d survive.
Until they catch up with me, which they will eventually.
I scrubbed a hand over my face, so tired. I hung my head, closed my eyes, and just let the deep bass of the music come through whenever the front door was opened. The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood on end. I lifted my head and saw large black boots in my vision. I couldn’t see the man who stood in front of me clearly, the shadows were too thick, but for some inexplicable reason I knew I’d seen him before.
That night in the alley. He was with the man in the suit.
They’d been dangerous, the violence swirling around them like an imprint, a promise. They hadn’t said one word, yet their message had come through loud and clear.
And then he held his hand out to me. I should have gotten up and left. I didn’t need any more trouble, but I found myself just sitting there, looking at it, wondering if it was a lifeline or an offer to drag me further into hell.
“He wants to see you,” the man said, his voice deep, serrated. I felt his words slice into me like a rusty knife, opening me up, draining me dry.
But instead of going, leaving the clear threat I knew awaited me, I found myself placing my hand in his, letting him lift me off the ground, and following him as he led me farther into the darkness.
Chapter
Eight
As soon as I stepped through the door I knew exactly where I was, who sat in front of me. I didn’t know his name, but I knew he was the man who’d been in the alley, the one who’d pistol-whipped that asshole who’d assaulted me.
His office was hot, or maybe it was the way he stared at me. It was like he could see right into my very soul, and threatened to snatch it up and devour it if things didn’t go his way.
He didn’t say anything for long seconds, but his silence spoke volumes. “Come closer,” he said—ordered—calmly.
I took a step forward.
“You know who I am?”
I shook my head. “I mean—” I swallowed after I said those two words. “You’re the man from the alley, the one who saved me.”
“Saved you?” He leaned back in his chair, his focus on me.
I nodded. “From that asshole.” I stared at the TV monitors behind him, an array of shots of the interior and exterior of the club. He was the one behind the “eye” then, watching, calculating.
I heard the door behind me shut with a deafening, final click. I was now left alone with this man.
I’d been a crying mess, broken and so damn scared of where my life was going, when that other shoe would drop, I hadn’t even been able to stand. But here I was, for some unknown reason, and I didn’t know whether to beg for help or run in the other direction.
I felt like I was this little rabbit facing a feral, starved lion.
I had no doubt I’d find out soon enough. My heart raced, my head swam with the realization that this was bad, and that I’d put myself in a dangerous situation. Coming here hadn’t been smart; I felt that as strongly as I felt my heart pounding in my chest.
I’m already in a dangerous situation, one that will get me killed…or worse.
It was that “or worse” that scared the shit out of me. It was the image of being tied up, beaten, bloody, naked, my body a vessel for men who wanted nothing more than to empty themselves in me. Hell, I didn’t know for sure he’d even do any of that to me, but I wasn’t a fool either, despite my actions.
But this man in front of me seemed different, more calculating, and more dangerous.