Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59310 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
He wouldn’t have continued fucking me as I screamed and wailed and begged. He would’ve stopped if I used a safe word. No, I have no way of knowing for sure, but I feel it.
Now I’m afraid to leave my apartment in case I run into one or the other. Eric hasn’t shown his face since that day at the mall, and sure, Alexei told me I don’t have to worry about him, but that’s easy for him to say. He doesn’t know Eric like I do.
And even I don’t know what’s going through his sick brain. He could show up any time. Or he might grab me out in the open like he did last time. I can’t predict what he’ll pull.
As for Lucian, I don’t think he would ever stoop so low as to visit someplace I’d visit. Like he would ever go to the mall or out to a diner for something to eat. I’m sure he’s too important to ever sit with other people in a movie theater. So I’m not worried about crossing paths with him out on the street.
But Alexei or one of the other guys? That’s another story. For all I know, he’d have one of them follow me around because he’s a sick fuck like that.
I have to ask myself why it matters if he wants to follow me or whether Eric still has a grudge he wants to work out on my face. They’re both out of my life now, and I have ten thousand dollars sitting in the bank. If I have to, I’ll find an apartment on the other side of the country and start a whole new life. We’ll see how good Lucian’s men are at finding people. Who the hell does he think he is, anyway?
I should’ve known better. I shouldn’t have let myself forget who he is at his core. He doesn’t care about people. He cares about his business and about himself, and that’s all. Everything he showed me, everything he did—tucking me in, making sure I had clothes and makeup, even letting me stay with him so I could get away from Eric—all of it was for his benefit. Dressing me the way he wanted to dress me, keeping me waiting until he was good and ready to do some fucked-up thing to me.
For all I know, letting me stay at his house was just another way of controlling me. It might not have had anything to do with Eric at all. If anything, that might’ve been a nice excuse for Lucian to sweep in and pretend to be a hero.
And to think, he actually acted like he had no idea why I was upset. He must not have listened to me at all when I told him I wasn’t going through that again. There I was, so proud of myself for standing up for my feelings and my safety, and what did it get me?
It got me a broken heart; that’s what it got me.
I hate thinking of it that way, to the point where it makes me sick to my stomach, but it’s the truth. He broke my heart. I trusted him, and he destroyed that. And I don’t know who I’m angrier with, him or me. Because I should’ve known better.
Note to self: don’t ever get into a situation like this again. Never, ever can I leave my fate in anybody else’s hands. There was no way I could’ve imagined the night when Alexei found me that things would’ve ended up this way. There are bad people in the world, people willing to use others so long as it benefits them. They’ll say anything to get their way.
Strings are always attached, and there isn’t always a way to know what those strings will be. I could never in a million years have guessed who Alexei worked for, for instance, or how I would be expected to pay my debt.
I’ll never put myself in that place again. If there’s anything I can thank Lucian for, it’s that. He taught me a valuable lesson.
He taught me something else, too, something I’m wrestling with even a week later. I need more people in my life, good people, genuine people because I have nobody to turn to right now, and it’s enough to make me want him back.
How sick is that? What does that say about me? That I almost wish I could look forward to seeing him again? This whole week, I’ve bounced back and forth between hating him and missing him. It doesn’t make any sense. What’s there to miss? When we’re together, we’re usually doing only one thing. The longest conversation I ever had with him was held in the library when I gave him a safe word that he chose to ignore. I should hate him. I should wish nothing but the worst for him.