Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
The line cuts out, stealing the breath from my lungs. I try her number again, but it goes straight to voicemail.
My hands start to tremble with rage and worry, my muscles tense up, ready to pounce – ready to fucking destroy Vancouver.
Tess.
Chapter 17
Tess
Exhausted from ending up on the other side of the damn city after I got swept up in a rush of people and pushed into the wrong train, I finally reach my apartment building.
James and Grant give me the evil eye. “Where the fuck have you been?”
“It’s not my fault you can’t keep up,” I snap back at them. Walking into the building, I ignore the stupid guards.
At least I got more footage, otherwise today would’ve been a total waste of time.
Taking the stairs up to the fourth floor, I dig my keys out of my bag. I’m going to shower and sleep like the dead.
Oh, and I need to charge my phone, so I can call Nikolas and tell him it wasn’t my fault, or he’ll probably kill me at lunch tomorrow.
Opening the door, I let myself in. I make sure to lock behind me and drop my bag on the table. I remove the dead phone and plug it into the charger, then head to the bathroom.
I’m sure James or Grant will tell Nikolas I’m home, so he won’t worry.
He’s still going to fry your ass over hot coals.
Opening the faucets in the shower, I strip out of my clothes. I brush my teeth quickly, then stepping beneath the spray, I groan as the warm water pelts my skin.
What a crazy day.
First, Jake was upset when I canceled with him. I’ll probably have to deal with the backlash on Monday at school. Then I got shoved onto the wrong train. My phone died. No doubt Nikolas is planning ways to kill me.
Ugh.
I wash my hair, and while I let the conditioner soak into the strands, I quickly scrub my body. After rinsing my hair, I turn off the faucets. I grab a towel and wrap it around my body, then reach for another towel to scrunch my hair dry.
So much better.
As I walk into my bedroom, apprehensiveness crawls over my skin, but before I can even glance around for the source, I’m grabbed from behind.
Strong arms lift me off my feet, tearing a terrified scream from my lungs. I’m thrown onto my bed, face first, and unable to push myself up in time, a solid body shoves me down against the mattress with brute strength.
I scream again, my mind still stunned by the sudden attack.
No. No. No.
I fight back against my attacker, but it’s no use. He grabs a fistful of my hair, and my head is snapped back, the barrel of a gun imprinting into my temple.
“No,” I manage to gasp through the raw fear numbing my senses.
God, no. I don’t want to die.
Hot air hits my cheek and ear. “Three seconds was all it took.” Hearing Nikolas’ hoarse voice, a weird mixture of relief and anger flood me. “I have you pinned. I can fuck you raw, put a bullet in your head, and leave your body to rot, and no one will know until tomorrow.”
What?
“That’s how fucking easy you make it for my enemies to get to you.”
Now that I know it’s Nikolas and not some random attacker, I strain against his hold on me. “It wasn’t my fault!”
The more I wiggle beneath him, the more I become aware of his body on top of mine. There’s only a towel covering me, and it’s slipping loose from all my struggling to get free.
“My phone died. I got stuck–” My words are cut off with a shriek when he yanks at my hair, some strands tearing loose. I’m still highly conscious of the gun pressed to my temple.
“Three fucking hours I spent looking for you,” he growls in my ear, danger and rage brimming darkly in his voice. “I fucking lost my mind with worry.”
His ruthless presence fills every inch of my room, and even though I’m scared, it doesn’t stop my stupid desire for the man from flaring to life.
Heart pounding in my chest and blood whooshing in my ears, I try to focus on my anger. “So you jumped me? Get the gun away from me!”
Instead of listening - which, let’s face it, is something Nikolas never does – his weight bears down on me, pressing me harder into the mattress.
The heat from his body seeps through his clothes, the towel, and into my skin. Every fiber of me comes alive with tingles, with awareness, with need.
“I fucking warned you, and you choose to disobey me every chance you get.” The threat in his voice pours hotly through my abdomen, desire dimming the fear I always feel when I’m near him.
“Are you going to punish me?” It comes out sounding like a dare instead of a question. The impossible desire I feel for Nikolas has me growing braver. “Are you going to fuck me to teach me a lesson or shoot me?”