Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I took it—hit after hit.
He grabbed me by the front of the shirt and slammed his fist into my face over and over.
Until I blacked out.
Blood was on the floor of my cell. My shirt was torn clean in two.
My head throbbed like a horse had kicked me in the skull.
I opened my eyes and looked at the meal he’d left behind. A glass of water and a sandwich.
I was in so much pain I didn’t even want to eat.
I rolled onto my back and groaned, my face still dripping with blood from his fist. I stared at the ceiling through swollen eyes, unsure how much time had passed, if it’d been days or just a few hours.
I felt like a pussy taking that beating, but I had no other choice. If I retaliated, I would break my promise to the one person I would always keep my promises to. My chest and ribs hurt too, like he got me there after I blacked out.
I could tolerate a lot of pain, but I hoped death was coming soon, because I didn’t want to feel this way for weeks or months.
The door at the top of the stairs opened, and his footsteps sounded as he entered the basement. He reached the ground floor and slowly approached the cage. “Don’t like your lunch?”
“I’m just too comfy to get up,” I said sarcastically.
“Really?” He stopped at the bars of the cage. “Because you look like shit.”
“I don’t know, Patricia might like it.”
His eyes narrowed in annoyance.
I continued to stare at the ceiling. “You can break my body, Damien. But you’ll never break my spirit.” I grabbed the water and drank all of it, letting it soak my dry throat. I could smash this glass into pieces, hide a shard in my pocket, and then stab him in the neck the next time he came after me. He was careless, or maybe he realized I wouldn’t fight back for any reason, and that made him feel invincible. I grabbed half of the sandwich and took a bite. “Wow, if Patricia fucks as could as she cooks…”
“You just want to fuck over anyone I care about, don’t you?”
I finished half of my sandwich before I turned my head slightly and looked at him. “It’s a joke, Damien.”
“I can read between the lines.”
I turned to the ceiling again. “I didn’t fuck with your sister. I loved her. Still fucking do.”
He said nothing.
“Your men are idiots who don’t know how to tie a knot. I could have taken you down the second we stepped inside your house. But I didn’t. This glass you just brought me? I could have shattered it and hid a shard in my pocket. Sliced your neck the second you came after me. Damien, you think you have the upper hand, but the only reason you do is because I allowed it. The only reason you have me in this Ritz Carlton resort is because I allowed it. I promised Catalina I would never hurt you…and I’ll keep my word, even if it claims my life.”
He was quiet after he listened to my speech. “That’s too bad, because you mean nothing to her.”
I kept the same blank expression, but those words hurt me more than his fists ever could.
“She set you up because she wants you dead as much as I do. I’ve never been prouder.”
I grabbed the other half of the sandwich and ate it, ignoring the unbearable pain inside my chest. It hurt because it was true. It hurt because she’d barely hugged me back, and even when she did, it didn’t feel the same. It hurt because my betrayal really did change who she was. She was like a ghost, just a hazy outline of who she used to be.
Damien unlocked the door. “Do you like baseball, Heath?”
I already knew where this was going. He had a wooden bat with my name written all over it. “Just let me finish my sandwich.”
Sixteen
Catalina
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna sat next to me on the couch, her glass of wine in her slender fingers.
“Yeah. Why?” I turned to her, sipping from my glass.
“You just…seem sad.”
“I’m not sad,” I said defensively. “I’m not really anything.”
Anna watched me for a while, like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Damien has him in the house, in the basement.”
I didn’t ask if he was still alive. It made no difference either way.
“Doesn’t talk about it.”
Probably to protect her. “He’s hurt every single member of our family—including you. It’s time for retribution.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
A knock sounded at the door, a hard knock, like a man was on the other side.
“Expecting company?” Anna asked.
“No. It’s probably Damien.” I set the wine down and moved to the door. I didn’t look through the peephole before I opened it, expecting to come face-to-face with the man who shared my green eyes.