Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I keep working on the screw, but only end up with each of my fingers bleeding.
What am I going to do?
I hear creaking coming from above, and realize the guy is moving around the house. I pray he isn’t coming this way anytime soon. Why rush? Not a soul knows I’m down here. I’m all his for the taking.
Fear laces every thought in my mind, and I hate that I’m not stronger and wasn’t able to fight him off, just like in Micky’s. Without Jaxon, he would have taken me that night, and there’s not a damn thing I could have done about it. For fuck’s sake, I grew up with three big brothers. I should know how to get out of shit like this, but they treated me like a princess.
I try to work faster at the screw, but it isn’t budging, and as I realize I’ve been wasting my time, I start searching for an alternative.
Trying to pull at the bounds on my wrists, I desperately try to break them, but once again, all I end up doing is hurting myself further.
The door at the top of the stairs creaks open, and my gaze snaps up, terror pounding through my veins. My heart races as a sliver of light shoots through the room, but it is quickly blocked by the silhouette of a man.
He slowly makes his way down the stairs, leaving the door open behind him, probably so he can see whatever it is he’s going to do to me. As he reaches the bottom step, I can make out the features of his face, and I want nothing more than to tear him to shreds. He strides toward me, the devil in his eyes, looking me up and down while licking his lips in hunger.
Bile rises in my stomach, but I hold it down. The mere thought of this creep touching me makes me sick.
“Hello, Cassandra,” he purrs, watching me with interest.
My eyes are wide and fearful, but there’s not a chance in hell that I will look away. I can’t risk it. I know what he wants, and I realize he won’t stop until he gets it. That knowledge has me in an absolute panic, but what I fear more is the unknown.
How far will this monster go? Will he have his way with me and dump me somewhere, or will it be worse? Will I remain down here for weeks until someone finds me, or will he kill me to cover his tracks?
My sharp stare tracks his movements as he comes closer and runs his fingers up the length of my body. I try to move away, but my bound arms and legs make it nearly impossible. His eyes heat at the touch, and I choke back vomit. “So beautiful,” he says, his eyes on my chest. “I’ve been waiting a long time to have you, but that damn hockey player just kept getting in the way.”
My mind spins back to the night at Micky’s when Jax was punched, and I can’t help but wonder if Jax was protecting me from this guy, once again. And if it was, I pray that Jax fucking annihilated him.
His eyes continue to sail over me with a sick excitement, and it has me wondering if this has happened to some poor girl before me.
He sits down on the bed beside me, leaving his fingertips trailing over my stomach while his eyes remain locked on mine. “I’ve been watching you,” he tells me. “Day in and day out for months now. I think I might even know your schedule better than you do, and I must say, you’re quite a predictable little thing.” Understanding dawns through me at his words, and that sick feeling of dread has the bile rising up again. It was him in my room, rummaging through my clothes and wearing my dressing gown. Paging through my notebooks and getting off on the scent of my bodywash. It wouldn’t surprise me if my black lace panties were in his pocket as we speak.
“Your schedule never changes,” he continues, “but I like that in a woman. No surprises.” His eyes roam my body in hunger, as his fingers move lower on my stomach, exploring my body in the most violating way.
No, no, no. Please don’t. I’m not ready for this. Not ready to lose myself.
I know it’s ridiculous to prepare for a moment like this, but if I could mentally check out, it might make the abuse a bit easier. The only man I have ever been with is Jax, and I know he will still love me afterward, but I can’t stand the thought of my body being ruined for him . . . ruined for me. How could he love me wholeheartedly when I’ll never be able to love myself again?