Keep You Close – Rivers Brothers Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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But there was no reason to scream.

No one would hear.

And it would give him satisfaction.

If there was one thing I couldn’t, wouldn’t, do, it was make him enjoy this more than I already knew he would.

“Don’t worry,” he said, yanking back harder, making me need to bite my lower lip to prevent myself from screaming, “I’ll make you scream plenty before I’m done.”

I didn’t doubt he was capable of that.

Especially after evading him for so long, thwarting him at every turn.

Joss turned, walking both of us backward into the stockroom, then slamming me forward.

I think I was still in shock at that point, not flailing or fighting, but I was present of mind enough to throw out my hands, to prevent my face from cracking against the wall.

Joss’s hand tightened on my ponytail, and yanked hard enough back for my skull to meet my shoulders, pain shooting up the back of my head from the strain.

“You thought you could hide from me forever?” he growled in my ear as his other hand slid around my throat, tightening.

I sucked in the biggest breath I could before the pressure cut off my air supply completely.

Panic swelled as my chest got tight, as my head felt like it was floating.

I had to focus to remind myself that he didn’t want to kill me. Or, if he did, he certainly didn’t want to kill me yet.

He wanted me to suffer.

This was a scare tactic.

Back a state or two, maybe it would have worked.

But things were different now.

I had more experience. And a hell of a lot more to live for.

Choosing my pain, I suddenly bent my knees, knowing the pain from my ponytail would intensify, but I would be able to breathe again.

My knees hit the ground with a crack that had pain ricocheting up my legs as I gasped for air, ignoring the way Joss pulled at my hair, just focusing on breathing.

I had no idea what I was doing. I’d never taken any of the self-defense classes I kept telling myself I would seek out each time I moved.

But it seemed like my survival instinct, at least, kicked in, making me reach back, grabbing the ponytail up higher than Joss’s hand, preventing him from pulling the roots, where it would hurt the most, then whipping around on my knees, the movement dislodging his hand.

I tried to get one foot on the floor, so I could gain my feet. But the second I started to put my weight onto it, something landed hard between my shoulder blades—his foot, I suspected, though I couldn’t see—and sent me flying forward, coming down hard on my left wrist, the pain making me let out a small whimper as I flipped myself over onto my back, knowing it was the only way I could even attempt to defend myself. Face to face.

As much as some part of me didn’t want to look at him again, afraid that maybe seeing him would cow me the way he used to, make me useless to do anything but accept the abuse he wanted to force upon me.

I cradled my bad wrist to my chest as I pulled my legs in as well, ready to kick out, to defend myself by any means necessary.

“You’ve got more fight in you now,” he said, coming closer. “I kind of like it,” he said with a smile that had my stomach sloshing around.

He looked like himself, if maybe a little older, a bit rounder in the stomach, likely thanks to having to order in, instead of having someone to cook every meal for him.

His hair looked like it was receding a bit at his temples, making his forehead appear bigger, making his features much less symmetrical.

There was a wicked glint in his eyes.

Normally, that look would fill me with dread.

Now, though, it filled me with something else entirely.

Rage.

He approached me slowly, savoring this moment, his power. Likely drafting up fantasies about what he was about to do with me.

I knew him well enough to know that, after all this time, that it would be a fate worse than death.

But while he might be the same old Joss, I was not the same Amy Jane.

I wasn’t Amy Jane at all.

Amy Jane was a sweet, teenaged girl with no experience, who was being led by her heart into hell.

I wasn’t her anymore.

I was AJ.

The woman who survived all that, who used her hardships to become stronger, who didn’t let it break her, who used it to slowly build a life she loved.

With a man she… yes, loved.

If there was ever a time when you could be honest about your feelings for a man, it was when you were facing your possible death.

I loved him.

Atlas.

For everything he was for me. Kind. Patient. Understanding. Generous.

And for everything he was. Adventurous. Brave. Exciting. Easy-going. Worldly. Connected with his family.


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