Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
The man with slicked-back hair and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth acts ignorant to who is the clear alpha in the room. “He?”
The temperament in the air shifts, turning from comfortable to downright roasting. “He…” Ghost shunts me forward two steps. “Who the fuck else requests authenticity by a trained professional?” The way he spits out ‘trained’ reflects he doesn’t believe the title any more than me. “Do it quick. He wants authenticity before the anchor is disengaged.” He forcefully walks me into the room, sits me on an unsterile-looking hospital bed, then spins to face the man who appears as if his every wish has been granted. “You have five minutes.”
Certain he is the lesser of two evils, my hand shoots out to grip Ghost’s wrist before I can stop myself. I don’t want to be his lapdog who performs tricks for a treat, but my desire not to be left with this man far outweighs my concern Ghost will once again force me onto my knees the instant we’re alone.
The ‘doctor’s’ room smells weird. The sheet at the end of the bed is stained with blood, and the glove box under his instruments of torture is empty. And don’t remind me of the gun on his bedside table.
I’m not safe here. Not at all.
Ghost’s eyes flick down to my hand circling his wrist before he returns them to my face. With one three-second stare, they sober up a lot. He looks angry, even more than before, so the last thing I expect to leave his mouth is some kind of reassurance. “He won’t hurt you.” His accent is deep, almost terrifying when he adds, “Not if he wants to live.”
Stealing my chance to voice my concerns, he exits the room, closing the door behind him.
“You need to lie back, bring your feet to your bottom, and spread your knees apart.” I shake uncontrollably, my fear uncontained when the doctor guides me back while murmuring, “He let you keep your panties?”
I feel exposed when he drags down the meager scrap of material I scrubbed in the kitchen sink once a week at Master Rudd’s compound. It was the first pair of panties I was permitted to wear in years, and I wasn’t going to let them out of my sight for a second, not even for a proper wash cycle.
When the snap of latex overtakes the thud of my pulse in my ears, I slant my head to the side and focus on an awkward red splotch on the far wall.
“Nuh-uh,” murmurs the gentleman wedged between my thighs when my legs instinctively attempt to snap shut. He’s touching my vagina and spreading me wide with his fingers yet he expects me not to react. Is he insane? “Hmm. No hymen. He will be disappointed, but let’s see if we can improve the odds of you not being fish bait before we sail across several continents.”
My eyes widen when he stuffs an object inside me. From the length and width, I assume it is his finger.
When he swivels the fat digit around, wetness pricks my eyes and flows down my cheek before puddling around my ear.
“Oh hush,” he mocks when he spots my tears. “We need to make room for his instruments.” I feel more vile than violated when he adds with a whisper, “This will make it feel better.”
Even being held captive since I was fourteen doesn’t stop me from recognizing the section of my body he’s trying to arouse with his thumb. He’s stroking my clit in rhythm to the faint rolls of his hips.
I don’t need to see his crotch to know he is hard. He has the same hungry glint Master Rudd had every time he made me watch him with his wives.
“You can still be a virgin even if you’ve orgasme—”
His reply is cut short by his door flinging open. It smacks into the drywall as fast as I snap my legs shut and sink my ear into the hard, leather bed. “Five minutes was too generous. You should be done by now.” In the reflection of the empty paper towel dispenser next to me, I spot Ghost slanting his head and arching a brow. He barely assesses the situation for two seconds before he tries to work out the reason for the tension ridding the air of oxygen. “What the fuck did you do?”
I assume he’s frustrated at me but learn otherwise when the doctor tries to act unaffected by his suspicious tone. “These tests are evasive, but the results are good. He will be pleased.”
Before I can react, Ghost grips my chin and turns my head to face him. My tears have dried, but since my body temperature is at boiling point, I’m sure he can see the trek the salty blob careened down my face.