Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
My short fuse snaps, unleashing a wave of anger into my system. I stop dead in my tracks, and close my eyes as I clench my fist. "I'll tell you this once, old man. I'm fucking pissed, and all I'm concerned with is finding her." I slap the can from his hand and point my finger in his face. "Don't fuck with me."
He stares at me, his gaze narrowing as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket. I yank the door open. "Let's go, Marney!" I shout as I get into the car.
He hurries and climbs in, then I peel out of the drive, the tires kicking up a cloud of dust as we turn onto the road.
An hour later, I'm pulling over to the side of the road to take a piss. My phone vibrates in my back pocket as I'm zipping my fly. There's a text from an unknown number, and all that is there is an attachment. I stare at the screen, knowing damn well I shouldn't open it, but I do.
A blurry image comes into focus. A fucking beast of a man holds Tor down by her throat over a desk. Heat floods every last inch of my skin.
"Don't kill her before we've even started," Joe snickers.
My heart pounds violently. My jaw tightens. The man releases his hold on her, and she gasps for air.
"Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about JP."
I have to swallow. Acid eats its way up my throat, but I can't make myself look away. They beat her, and my heart feels like it's going to pound its way out of my fucking body. My eyes blur with tears as I watch the fucking bastard burn something into her back, the sound of her screams splintering their way through my body. They are so guttural, so ragged. Those screams will haunt me until the day I fucking die. I can't watch this. I go to close the screen and the phone slips from my slick palms, her cries still ringing out from the speaker. I fumble around in the damp grass for the phone, desperate to cut the sound off. Then, suddenly there's silence. I hear things banging around, Joe talking, and I'm terrified she's been killed.
When I finally find the phone, I hear Joe say, "I can definitely see why you like her, JP. I fancy a taste myself. See what all the fuss is about." My hands shake as I turn the phone over and see Joe laid on top of her, her legs held open. I close my eyes as I fumble to shut the phone off. All I hear are Joe's sick grunts. Tor doesn't make a fucking sound, and that might just be the worst part.
I lean over the front of the car, trying to control my breathing. "Fuck!" I launch my fist into the hood. "Fuck," I shout again, my voice breaking as I drop to the ground, and rest my back against the bumper. I rake my fingers through my hair and place my elbows on my knees. I stare at the black screen of my phone, her cries still echoing in my ears, and I feel tears building in my eyes.
This is pain, weakness, vulnerability. I know damn well she's my weakness, and so does he. If I thought for a fucking second he would give her up for me, I would hand myself over, I would give him whatever the fuck he wants, but what he wants is to break me. He wants me crawling on my fucking knees before he puts a bullet in my head.
I wipe my hand over my face, angrily swiping away the tears threatening to break free. I will not let him fucking break me. I can't help her if he does. I stare out at the empty road and think about what all he has taken from me. I think of how he used an innocent fucking girl as a pawn in this sick, fucked up game he's playing with me. And no matter how hard I try, I can't get the image of him on top of her out of my fucking mind. Every reason I have hunted Joe over the past few years fades into the background. Although revenge is one hell of a driving force, being the sole person who can save her means I have to find him. My pulse kicks up. My vision goes red. And the adrenaline burns through my veins like a hit of fucking heroin. Fuck anger. This is unadulterated rage, and Joe has no fucking idea what he's just unleashed. The fucking devil himself would run and hide from me because I know no fucking limits, and I'm fucking pissed.
Hours and days seem to blend together. The only way of measuring the passing days is when I'm dragged out of here, so Joe can brand me, rape me and beat me. He wants me to scream. He wants Jude to hurt, to act out of anger and make a mistake. This will hurt Jude, of course it will, even if it's nothing more than a case of wounded pride, but the less I scream, the less Joe gets what he wants. I won't give him the satisfaction of hearing me scream or beg because it will do me no good.