Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
What's weird is the fact that instead of just going into the house and getting her, they traveled all the way to Santa Fe to kidnap a woman they deemed capable of drawing her out.
Maybe they don't want to cross Cerberus. Maybe with Beth going back home to Texas, they considered her discarded from the club, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Nathan and Xan Adair have made a massive mistake. I can only hope that we're able to find Beth safely before the club exacts their punishment on the men.
Chapter 2
Brielle
I give Victoria a quick smile, but I know it doesn't meet my eyes.
I'm miserable here. There are so many things I was accustomed to back in Ohio, and my daily life now looks nothing like it used to.
I feel like an ungrateful asshole because I'm safe. I don't have to worry about being punished for locking my bedroom door. I might get looks from the other women here, but I don't have to worry that one of them is going to threaten my life at any point. Most of them keep their distance, and as much as I know that's best for everyone involved, it still makes for a very lonely existence.
I don't bother asking if anyone in the kitchen needs help with preparing breakfast. I attempted to get involved when I first arrived over a year ago, but it became very obvious they didn't want me around. My help wasn't very helpful. My entire life I've been catered to, and although the women here haven't been told my story, it was clear that I didn't have a clue what I was doing.
I'm sure they think I'm some sort of snob who has no business being here, but I can guess they'd be shocked by my history and the things I've endured. I might've had all my meals served to me by staff, but, more often than not, my breakfast was served with a side of abuse. Nothing like being forced to eat eggs while your stepbrother carved his name on your skin with a steak knife.
I tug at the long sleeves of my shirt, hooking my thumb into the hole I cut at the cuff.
"I'll get it," I rush to say the second the phone hanging on the wall rings.
The ancient thing on the wall is a little archaic, but I'll use anything as a distraction right now.
"Hello?" I say into the phone.
The only people who usually call the house are from the jobs some of the women have, when they need an extra shift filled. For a few seconds, all I hear is silence.
A wave of cold chills runs up my spine before anyone even speaks.
I close my eyes, swallowing thickly when, "Please help me! Brielle, please! Please!" comes through the line.
"Nathan," I whisper, my heart already breaking for what will happen to Beth.
"Hi there, angel. I've missed you." His voice is everything my nightmares are made of.
"I didn't know you were looking for me," I say, trying to sound brave, but even I can hear the edge of fear in my voice.
"What did I tell you about lying, angel? You know I'll go to the ends of the earth to protect you."
Protect me.
It has always sounded like a threat, a way for him to remind me that he may be evil, but there are much more evil men in the world.
"And you really think that kidnapping that bitch you have there would work?" I ask, knowing the second he thinks that Beth means anything to me, he'll identify her as a weakness, and that means horrible things for her.
"Did you really think she gave a shit about you?" I hear Nathan ask her. The tsking noises that come through the line make my skin crawl. "She doesn't care about anyone. I've taken care of her for years, practically raised her, and you see what she does to me?"
The fatherly act is such bullshit. What that man has done to me has been anything but what anyone would consider for a family member they claim to love.
"Nathan Adair," Beth pants, and I want to cry for what this means for her. She has recognized him, making it now impossible for him to even think about setting her free.
"Goddamn it," I snap.
"I need you to come to me, angel," Nathan says, using the same pet name he's always used. It carries with it a certain level of threat on its own.
I want to tell him to go to hell, that he'll never see my face again, but I can't. Running from the man is one thing, and as much bravery as that took, confronting him, challenging him in any way to his face, is signing my own death certificate.
"Just let me go, Nathan. Please," I beg instead. There have been times, long ago, that pleading with him is exactly what he wanted. When I gave in, when I begged, he relented, if only for a little while.