Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I should retreat. But like a moth to a flame, I want to move closer.
My reaction to this man is concerning.
“I promised your brother I’d protect you.”
My head snaps back. “You’re lying. Roman didn’t care about me. We didn’t have a relationship.”
His eyes narrow slightly as if this is news to him.
Maybe it is. Who knows what, if anything, Roman shared with this guy.
“We don’t have time for this,” he grunts. “You need to come with me now. I made a promise, and I will keep it, Sasha.”
“Fuck your promises,” I say, brushing his shoulder as I walk past him to the kitchenette. Sometimes I don’t know what comes over me.
You have a death wish. That’s all. This is old news.
I know this man is dangerous, but at this moment, I’m tired, cranky, and in desperate need of a shower and bed. He’s only managing to piss me off.
“It’s not just about promises, Sasha. You’re in danger,” he says, coming up behind me.
He’s close. Too close.
“If you think I’m a bad man, you have no idea what awaits you out there. What hunts you now as we speak.”
I swallow, dreading the grim picture he’s painting.
Who could be worse than this man?
“I can protect you,” he promises.
“I want nothing to do with you.”
He laughs, but it lacks humor. He’s mocking my bravado, and it stings. “You don’t have a choice.”
I’m about to object some more, but I don’t get the chance. Before I can voice any more rebuttals to his offer of safety, I’m being thrown over his shoulder and forced to bend to his will. He stalks out of my apartment without a care in the world who sees.
“Put me down,” I yell, hitting his back and kicking my legs. But my attempts to stop him are futile. He marches all the way to the back entrance of my building before stopping abruptly and dropping me on my feet.
“Listen to me…” he grits out through clenched teeth, leaning down so we’re practically nose to nose. “You’re in danger. I’m only here because I promised Roman to protect you. The truth is, I don’t give a fuck what happens. Fight me, and I’ll leave you to brutal men who will torture you until your life seeps out. Or you can come with me.” He raises back to his full height, towering over me. “Either way, I couldn’t care less.”
Sweat beads on my brow. For some reason, I believe him. Being tortured sounds like the worst kind of death. I stand here weighing my odds as if they’ll somehow change. There has to be some other way.
If bad men are really after me, I know I don’t have a choice. I have to go with him. But it doesn’t stop me from being scared of him too.
The back door swings open, and in walk three more men. The burly guy at the front raises a brow at Gideon, who simply rolls his eyes. With that one facial expression, my choice is taken away.
Gideon sweeps me off my feet, and we’re out the door when I hear him say, “Time’s up, firefly.”
5
SASHA
I don’t fight this time.
A part of me wants to kick and scream, but I don’t.
It won’t change anything. The only thing it will do is serve to piss off this man even more than he already is.
Which is not something I want. Especially with the entourage he’s brought with him.
All the energy is zapped from my body, and I hang limply over Gideon’s solid shoulder as he carries me out the back entrance of the building.
It’s rare that I’m out here, but this area is actually worse than the front, and from this angle, over his shoulder, it’s gross: crumbling bricks, peeling paint.
A bunch of the windows are broken—some with glass still jaggedly sticking out of the frames, others with wood haphazardly boarding them up.
This place may be run-down, but it’s my home, and I don’t want to leave.
I focus on anything but my current situation. Which at the moment is the faint smell of his cologne wafting through the air. I hate to admit it, but he smells divine. If he were any other man, I’d lean in farther and inhale deeply.
Lucky for me, I’m dropped unceremoniously onto the black leather seat in the car before I can do anything stupid, like take a sniff.
As we move, I quickly become disoriented. No matter how hard I try to keep track, I have no idea where we’re headed as the driver turns so often once we’re out of the city.
The wheels of the SUV spin out, and my arms stretch forward, trying to find purchase.
“Stop squirming,” Gideon commands.
“I’m not squirming. I’m trying to not die. Your driver is driving like an asshole.”
“Sasha…” he warns. “Stop talking.”
Not wanting to anger the drug lord, I concentrate out the window, taking in the landmarks. The more I pay attention, the more things look familiar. Just as I realize where we’re going, one of Gideon’s goons leans over the front seat and throws a bag over my head.