Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
"You might want to get dressed before you do that," I advise her.
Her gaze snaps back to me, eyes wide. "Is this it? This is the way out?"
I nod wordlessly.
Her face lights up with relief and victory. She puts the seax down and rushes over to gather her clothes and pull them back on.
Her braids are messy from me manhandling them so much. Her lips are swollen from sucking my cock, and her jean shorts won't button since I sliced the button off.
I grab my sword and replace it in its scabbard at my hip.
"So, about that dinner..."
She scoffs, smashing the blade down into the pumpkin. "Yeah, right."
"We could do a movie instead."
The lock disengages and the door opens.
Her whole body floods with relief, then she looks back at me. "I never plan to see you again. Ever."
"I see."
She nods, then pushes the door open.
"And if I told you that wasn't an option, you..."
"Would tell you to fuck off. You don't have me locked in a room with you anymore. We're back in the real world, and you can't force me to do anything with you ever again."
Oh, how adorably wrong she is.
I smile faintly and let her have her moment, though.
She'll figure out the truth soon enough.
Chapter six
Sophie
I cannot get out of that godforsaken mansion fast enough.
Silvan Koch is fucking crazy.
I’m never going back there.
I’m never going anywhere ever again.
I was right and Mom was wrong; going places is terrible.
Hermit life is the life for me.
At least at home, I’m safe.
Safe from Silvan’s wild eyes, safe from his dangerous touch.
Safe from the things he wants to do to me.
I try not to think about it as I return home to a dark house and lock the doors.
It's impossible.
When I strip off my clothes and take a quick, scalding hot shower, it's like I can still feel his depraved kisses peppering my skin. The imprint of his lips might as well be burned into my flesh, inked there like a tattoo for all the world to see.
I scrub harder but only succeed in agitating my skin, not ridding myself of the feeling of being touched by him.
Touched everywhere.
The man had no shame whatsoever.
I tell myself it doesn't matter, that I'll never see that creep again.
I pull on a pair of plaid pajama pants and a T-shirt and curl up in my old bed.
I tell myself I'm not dirty and I'm not marked, and I try to believe that come tomorrow, Silvan Koch will be so insignificant to my life, I'll practically forget him.
I don't know him, anyway.
He's a stranger I spent a scary evening in an escape room with, nothing more.
I'll never see him again, and after tonight, I'll never think about him again, either.
He may have stolen access to my body, but he doesn't deserve to live in my mind.
Settling into bed, I pull the warm down comforter around my body, snuggling up beneath it to stave off the cold.
I can't shake the memories, though.
He was inside me.
Inside me.
I may have managed to stop him before he went deeper, but he still invaded my body in a way I’ve never let anyone before.
And then the bastard asked me to dinner.
I might think it was a cruel joke coming from anyone else, but there was something shockingly genuine about his request, as if he actually wanted to hang out with me after what he'd done.
What a psycho.
Shaking my head to clear it, I try to push Silvan far from my mind so I can get some sleep.
___
I wake up in the middle of the night, my heart pounding in my chest.
I'm sweating, and the sheets are bunched up around me.
In my dream, I was trapped in that room with him again, and even though I'm awake now and alone in my bedroom, the panic won't leave me.
It feels like he’s here with me right now.
I close my eyes and breathe, trying to slow my heart down, but it's no use.
I don’t feel safe like someone who managed to escape.
I still feel like I’m in his clutches.
Helpless anger wells up inside me. I refuse to be so fragile that some stranger at a party can make me feel like this.
It doesn't matter, I tell myself.
He doesn't matter.
I desperately want that to be true, but no matter how thorough I was with my toothbrush, I can still taste him in my mouth. No matter how roughly I scrubbed at my hair and skin in the shower, I can still feel his firm grip on the back of my head, his warm hands cupping my breasts.
Dammit.
I all but throw my comforter aside and get out of bed.
I head to the kitchen for a glass of water, turning on every light as I go and flinching at the brightness of the first one. If Mom were awake, she would yell at me for wasting electricity, but I can't stand to walk around in the dark right now.