Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 106754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
To consolidate his words, he waves a knife in my face, and the steel glints in the moonlight. I feel the tears coming through again, realizing how fucked up this whole situation is. I should never have trusted him or let him back into our lives. The bastard was just looking for a way to hurt us both again. Parker grabs me by the shoulders next and drags me downstairs to the basement. It's cold and damp, and I hate it as soon as I see it.
"Home sweet home," he rasps in my ear, shoving me on a mattress on the floor. At least it's clean and not smelly, which makes me feel a little bit better. I'm in such a state of shock I don't even manage one scream as he ties me up and stuffs something in my mouth again to keep me quiet, tying it behind my head. Finally, I'm left gagged and tied up on the mattress as I whimper softly, tears streaming down my face. Parker steps back to admire his handiwork and smiles like a madman, apparently pleased with what he sees.
Then his expression changes. Ever so slowly, he touches my cheek, caressing me softly as though I'm not a ragdoll but a porcelain doll. As if he's so afraid the lightest touch might break me. I look up into his eyes and search for any trace of humanity there. But as fast as it appeared on his face, Parker's expression darkens again. His hand lingers on my cheek but is now threatening instead of brotherly. And then, he smacks me hard, the blow throwing me back on the mattress.
"You've been a bad girl, June," he snarls, the anger in his voice so apparent and scary, it makes me think I won't even make it through the night. "I know what you've done. You married the wrong brother, little sis. And you've let him knock you up... Now it's time to play."
A vicious smile replaces his frown, and he pulls up a chair next to my mattress, glaring at me the whole time.
"Have to get a good look at you," he murmurs to himself. "Been a long time."
He settles into his seat, his eyes glued on me, and I know my sleepless nights are here to stay as long as he's around.
Because Parker Miller is the man starring in all my nightmares—including this one.
I hate the fact that time is passing, and no one has come for me. No one knows where I am, or who took me. I think of Kade and Theo and it just breaks my heart, knowing I may never see them again. I have no idea what time it is, my only recollection of time being when Parker drags me to the bathroom so I can wash up. He brings me food downstairs and sits with me. He hasn't touched me... yet.
But what he does instead is disturbing, too. Usually, studios are filled with natural light and the sun shining through the windows. I guess it's a perfect metaphor for his work as Parker's is in the basement, enveloped in darkness and a putrid smell of something rotting. He has all of his supplies here, and all day, he paints me.
He won't show me the paintings, but from his evil grin, I just know I would feel even sicker if I saw them. Remembering the last time I saw one of his paintings of me sends shivers down my spine. It was dark, twisted, and bloody; my body contorted and broken in unnatural ways only a sick mind could come up with. While he paints, my stepbrother talks to me, and I realize just how twisted his obsession has become.
He tells me how successful he is under a fake name. He says he earns millions. And he's even more pleased to inform me that he was behind the raffle that got us the tickets to this hellish paradise. He brought us right into his lair, and we didn't suspect a thing. Marissa is like his servant, bringing us food and almost kissing the floor he walks on. Their whole relationship is disturbing, and I try hard to talk to the girl, but I'm gagged and bound unless I'm eating. And then, Parker holds a knife to my throat to stop me from screaming out loud, my tears mixing with the stale food they feed me.
I hate the fact that my worst nightmare has become a reality. I let the darkness take me and spend time in a state of semi-consciousness, not even fighting the currents that are pulling me under. I know I won't last long, even though he hasn't touched me, tortured me... But I know it's coming. And when it does, I don't want to be here anymore.