Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 35602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 178(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 119(@300wpm)
"There's so much I have to tell you," Xavier goes on. "But not before we leave this town. This is just a place where you spent some of your time without me. This isn't your home. These women weren't your friends. You know why, Tallulah?"
I shake my head silently, swallowing the lump in my throat.
"Because you're property. You're an object."
I flush deeply as he smirks at me.
"And anyway, now it's gone. Erased just like every memory you have without me in it. From now on, I'm going to make sure I'm part of every dream you have. Whether it's a nightmare, or a fantasy that you built for yourself. I'm going to permanently ingrain myself in your mind until you can think of nothing and nobody else. Now get the fuck up, sex toy."
I slowly pick myself up and Xavier's eyes soon tune in on my arm. I can tell he knows it's broken because there's a look of worry that passes over his face, one that I never expected to see again because I long ago forgot what it means for someone to take care of me like he used to.
"Does your arm hurt?" he asks me in a low voice ,hissing the words like they hurt him.
"Yes, I think I must have broken it while I was trying to escape the men who attack this house," I whisper. "But it's okay, I could've 't handled it, you didn't have to come barging in."
"Oh, you could've handled it," he mocks me. "I just happened to find you half ready to be sold to the highest bidder."
"I wouldn't let them."
"You're a little girl, Tallulah. You really think you're gonna win in a fight with some rich fucking mobster?"
"I won the one with us," I hiss.
"You won fucking nothing, sex toy. And I'm about to prove it."
He glances with disinterest at my arm, saying, "We will need to tend to your arm eventually, even if only just so I can break it again later on."
My blood freezes at the sound of his cruel, war-starting words. But what else was I expecting? I should have known all along he was going to punish me for everything I did to him. And breaking my arm will be the least of my problems once he decides to fully bring me to justice. I know there's no running now. He's got me in the palm of his hand and he could so easily crush me with his fingers, turning my life to ash and dust just like he did the first time.
"Walk," he barks at me.
But a small mercy comes nevertheless. Once we reach the cars parked outside of the shed, he has one of his men saw through the handcuffs holding my wrist together. I groan with relief as my hand is released. It feels even worse than before, already turning dark blue and purple in spots. I know I need to see a doctor and Xavier seems to realize the same thing.
We get into the car, and once again a hood is placed over my head to prevent me from seeing where we're going. I don't object and I don't say a word as we start on our journey, even though I start feeling start carsick pretty fast.
Xavier is riding in the car right next to me. He's going to protect me even though he hates me so much. I have no doubt about that. There's no way he's going to let anybody else hurt me. Not now that he finally has me back where he needs me. Only Xavier will be allowed to hurt me from now on.
There is no way to tell how much time passes as we drive towards our destination. I have no idea where we're going, and save for the few stops we make, which I assume are to pay for tolls or avoid someone following us, I have no idea where we are.
But soon after the last stop, we pull up in front of a building. I'm assuming so, because there's a crunchy gravel road in front of it. The men file out and so does Xavier, finally putting the hood off of my head. I stare in wonder at the building before us.
It's built of terracotta brick with a roof that's flat and surrounded by beautiful, blooming rhododendrons. Inside, another man is already waiting. He wears a wise expression and a pair of white gloves. He must be the doctor.
Before I get the chance to admire my surroundings, I'm already shoved into an office, sitting down at a desk and the doctor is examining my hand.
"It's broken pretty badly," he tells Xavier. "We need to deal with this break before it causes permanent damage. I'm already not sure whether or not it's going to need an operation, so I need to put it in a cast before it gets worse from here."