Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
In the midst of the struggle, I pull my right arm free, clench my hand into a tight fist and swing it toward him. Without mercy or thought my knuckles slam right into his already crooked nose. Elation, and fear fill my veins, while pain radiates up my arm at the collision of bone on bone. Fuck that hurt.
My eyes flicker to his face and I watch as he wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, blood dripping from it and trickling down his angelic face. I don’t know who is more shocked, him or me? The look in his eyes is feral, and I almost cower in fear, but instead I steel my spine and wait for the blow to come. I won’t let him do this to me again. I won’t fall for him again. I won’t allow myself to become enthralled by his presence. I made that mistake once, and it almost cost me my life.
“If you were anyone else, I would have snapped your neck by now,” he snarls. His grip on me tightening, his fingers digging painfully into my upper arm while his eyes glare at me, daggers of ice piercing my soul. I stand very still waiting for the retaliation. Maybe a smack, a punch, or a bullet, but it doesn’t come. Instead he moves with such precision it’s hard to comprehend. He’s all stealth and speed, that make it hard for my brain to register what is happening. In a split second, he’s twisting my body around and pulling me flush to him, my back to his chest.
What’s he doing to me? The words vibrate through my skull, as he wraps his arm around my neck, putting me in a chokehold. I grab onto his arm, the corded muscles bulging as he applies light pressure to my neck.
Oh my god, is he really going to kill me?
I know I just said I would rather die than go back there, but now that I think it might actually happen, I’m not so sure anymore. I’m too young to die. I have an entire life ahead of me. Dreams, aspirations. I didn’t even get to go to college yet. Tears sting my eyes and I claw at his arm one last time in a feeble attempt to stop him.
“Relax, Gracie. I’m not going to hurt you…” Luke whispers close to my ear, but he doesn’t understand that he already is. Him merely being here is hurting me. I open my mouth to respond but the words are lost on the tip of my tongue as his arm tightens even further around my throat.
I choke. My lungs burn.
I can’t breathe.
Literally, I cannot breathe.
I can’t talk either. I can’t do anything besides struggle in his hold until I feel my limbs getting heavy, my body going weak in his arms from the lack of oxygen.
Black dots flicker over my vision, and I try impossibly hard to keep my eyes open, but it’s a futile effort, one I know I won’t win. It’s not long before my vision goes dark and I’m pulled into an all-consuming darkness.
2
Luke
Well that didn’t go how I had planned.
Gracie… my sweet, Grace. Such a feisty little woman now. I shake my head in disbelief as her body goes slack in my arms and I loosen my hold around her delicate neck. She’s still as pretty as the day I last held her in my arms, maybe even prettier. I brush a few dark brown strands of hair from her face as her head falls back against my shoulder. I take in her features, plump lips, full cheeks, long lashes, and unmarked pale skin. Perfection.
Blood trickles down my busted nose and I smirk. Fuck. That was hot as hell. But futile. There was no way she was going to escape me, not with the training I have, the skill to disarm and kill within seconds. It was cute the way she tried though, of course, she wasn’t to know about my training, we’ve been separated for two years. The things I’ve learned and done, the things I’m capable of, they’d scare her half to death…just like last time. Shifting her weight so I can pick her up, I toss her over my shoulder and start to walk out of her apartment, all while continuing to think about how badass she looked trying to fight me.
I try not to bounce her too much on my shoulder as I walk down the stairs. The last thing I need is her waking up and this little fight continuing. Shooting that bastard drew enough attention, a scene with her would only make matters worse. Something that I truly don’t need, since, technically, I’m supposed to be silent and only seen when it’s time for death. I grit my teeth, feeling warm blood soaks through her shirt. I saw that fucker cut her with his knife and I couldn't get inside the room fast enough.