Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Holding the battle roar inside is difficult and I only barely manage it.
I stare so hard I don’t know how the man does not feel my hatred burning into his skin. If he touches her again, first directive or not, I doubt I’ll be able to hold myself back.
But the man just yells more and Juliet remains on the floor. Is she badly damaged? I cannot see her from here.
I clutch at the brick ledge and it crumbles to dust. I let go and fist my hands or else I will destroy this entire roof without intending to.
The man makes his first good decision and walks away from Juliet. He drops to the couch and does not move.
After a time, Juliet rises, thank the ancients.
She looks down at the man and then slowly, carefully, walks across the dwelling space to grab her satchel and another larger pack that she slings over her back. The way she is walking on her toes, it is as if the man is sleeping and she does not want to wake him. Many who drink rousi wine also become sleepy, so this makes sense.
And then she heads for the front door. Yes, good, Juliet. Go away, go far away and leave me to my work.
I wait until I see her exit the front of the building. For a second I am torn. I want to follow and protect her but then my eyes go back to the window. Because the best thing I can do to protect her is to rid her of the vermin plaguing her dwelling.
She pauses in front of her building, eyes on her phone. Within minutes, a car pulls up and she gets inside. Good. It will soon be night and my heart eases to know she will not be out walking alone.
I wait until the car disappears around the corner.
And then I spring into action.
It is not difficult to find the door to Juliet’s dwelling once I am inside the building. Hers is the second window from the right, and I find the door with ease.
The lock is easily broken with a simple shove of my shoulder, as was the lock to the building door downstairs.
I slip inside and shut the door behind me.
I am met with loud snoring.
The blood rage which had cooled slightly on seeing Juliet’s safe exit rises again in full force. I walk to the couch that I have seen so many times from afar through the window. This male, bigger than Juliet by more than a kronon, dared to lay a hand upon her.
He is big by human standards, but nothing to a Draci, even without our superior reflexes and strength. If he were standing, I would tower over him.
My neck goes hot and my hands fist. I want to roast him on a spit and slowly pull out his entrails while he’s still alive to watch.
But then I look around Juliet’s apartment. I cannot make a mess.
Secrecy must be upheld.
I grumble under my breath and then reach down and lift the male up into the air by his neck. “Hey! What the fuck?!” he immediately begins squawking, his feet kicking, trying to find purchase.
“I cannot take my time with you,” I tell him with true regret after slamming him into the wall. “But at least you will see my face before you die.”
And then I twist my hands and his feeble, fragile little neck snaps.
I let go and he falls to the ground, dead.
Chapter Five
Juliet
I hide out in the motel for three days before going back home. Usually Robbie has cooled off by then and will be sorry, bring me some ugly flowers, and promise it will never happen again.
That lasted a whole four days last time. It’s always getting shorter and shorter.
I tell myself to just buy a bus ticket and get the hell out of here. Don’t look back. Stay on the run if that’s what it takes.
But then I simply feel…exhausted.
He’d find me.
I tried to run, once, and he found me within a day and a half. I couldn’t leave my apartment for a month, the bruises were so bad.
I’m trapped. With him.
Usually I can get away with a few days at a hotel without him going nuts on me. But only because he knows exactly where I am.
I shake my head. God, I can’t change any of this so why am I even obsessing over it?
I buckle down and do my editing work and put off my friends and eat junk food from the snack machine and generally try not to think about my life at all.
It works. Sort of.
Stupidly, what I can’t stop thinking about is the fact that I promised the flower shop guy I’d be back the next day and then I never showed up. So beyond imbecilic. He’s a complication I definitely don’t need in my already complicated, fucked up life.