Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 741(@200wpm)___ 593(@250wpm)___ 494(@300wpm)
I thought the same thing. Where was the fear? The shock? The horror?
“You’re looking right into my eyes. You’re refusing to get off my bike, and you don’t seem to understand what’s going on here.”
I no longer wanted to be washed away by circumstances I didn’t understand. It was time to push—to dig for clues.
“What is going on? Why did you seem to know me… back there?”
His body went rock hard with rage. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” I knew what he meant, but something inside made me rebel. I couldn’t get a grip on how drastically my life had changed—or at least I thought it’d changed…
I hated being in the dark. I hated having memories taunting me while staring into the eyes of a killer. I wanted to know.
He growled under his breath, swiping his free hand over his face. The sheen of pain hadn’t diminished; if anything it’d become worse.
“Get. Off. My. Bike,” he whispered. The sharp control in his tone sent a smattering of warning down my back.
Carefully, I obeyed. Swinging my leg over, I hated how naked I was beneath the black T-shirt, and backed away the moment my feet touched concrete. At least it wasn’t cold tonight. The mugginess of humidity lived in the porous floor, warming my toes.
Kill climbed off his motorcycle, grunting in pain. He stood up, his features blanching in agony. Spinning to face me, he growled, “Get inside. I don’t have patience for nonsense.”
I eyed him, then glanced at the already closed garage door.
He chuckled. “You run and I’ll put a bullet in your head so fast, you’ll wake up in heaven without ever remembering what happened.”
I already have that problem. However, I’d woken up in hell with no reflex fear of the devil.
“Why did you bring me here?” Why me and none of the other girls?
He sighed heavily, pinching the brow of his nose. The tips of his fingers left another streak of blood across his face. It glistened in the bright lights of the garage. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” With a fast move, he reached behind and pulled a gun free from his waistband.
I knew it was there. I’d seen it glinting like black death while he bent over the gas tank of his bike and drove us here. Every mile we’d traveled, I’d toyed with the idea of grabbing it and holding it to his temple.
But every scenario of threatening a man who was the only link between keeping me from being roadkill ended badly. I preferred being alive to spread on the road. And I definitely preferred the element of surprise.
Act docile. Then he would never expect the mayhem building inside me.
I squared my shoulders. “You won’t shoot me.”
“Why not?”
Because you do know me. No matter how vehemently you deny it.
“Because you said it yourself—I’m to be sold. What happens to you when the buyer doesn’t get what he paid for?”
It was a gamble, but I decided to use shock value to get a reaction from him. I wanted to scream that there was something between us. To force him to acknowledge it, but at the same time, I had no proof. I needed to see evidence from him, before I fully believed it myself.
He cocked his head. “You’re seriously gonna make me believe you care about what happens when a trafficker doesn’t deliver skin to his buyer?”
I swallowed. “No. But I do care about getting answers. Answers I’m willing to risk my life to gain.”
He grinned, motioning with the gun for me to head toward the door leading presumably into the house. “You think I’ll answer your questions?”
I nodded, padding toward the door and pulling it open. A waft of air-conditioning greeted me. “You will because you’ll owe me.”
My eyes fell to the spreading bloodstain on his chest. His deterioration had been gradual but not unnoticed. I could sense his wooziness, the lack of strength ebbing like a tide. I couldn’t explain it—yet another hint at who I’d been before this nightmare.
He laughed softly. “I’ll owe you?”
Turning in the doorway, I pointed at the soppiness of his shirt dripping from beneath his brown leather jacket. “You’re bleeding profusely. If you don’t stop moving and lie down, you’ll pass out.” Lowering my voice, I added, “I can help you.”
He stalked forward. “Do I look like I’m fucking weak?”
I gritted my teeth, battling against the flush of fear with him storming so close. He brought the reek of blood and metal and the power of a pissed-off male. His jaw was strong and square, his nose neither too big nor too long. Everything about him was symmetrically in proportion, making him the handsomest criminal I’d ever met.
You think you’ve ever met.
My brain hurt.
“All I know is you’re hurt, and if you don’t sit down soon, you’ll pass out and I’ll just leave you there and escape.”