Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
He didn’t let go of the knife. “That isn’t what this is, Sariah. I’m not asking you for anything.”
“I know. Which is why I want to give it to you. My soul. Whatever’s left of it.”
Colby stared at me for a second more before he relinquished his grip.
It felt heavier in my hand than I’d expected. It was the first time I’d held a knife like this. First time I’d held any kind of weapon since the warehouse.
I’d been roaming around America, drinking in seedy bars, staying in seedier motels, and I’d had no form of protection with me. Colby had chastised me about that when he’d realized. I’d shrugged and let him rage on and on without arguing. It wasn’t worth it. You didn’t need protection when you’d already had the worst happen.
God—if she did exist, she was a woman—could be a spiteful bitch to be sure, but even she wouldn’t be so cruel as to force me to endure even more suffering. My scars protected me against new wounds.
That’s what I told myself anyway. Maybe I was testing her. Inviting fate to fuck me over again so I could get proof I was really being punished.
The why of it didn’t matter, especially at this moment.
I held the knife, considering where I wanted it to cut through my skin. It was tempting, mighty tempting for me to go to the places that knew the blade. Reopen myself in places he’d damaged. Reclaim them or some shit.
But I wasn’t strong enough for that.
And logistically, it presented a problem since I was on top of Colby. My palm felt like the most sensible option. Plus, it already had scars from where I’d dug my fingernails so deep into the flesh I’d left crescent shaped marks.
Without thinking about it, lest I wuss out, I sliced the blade along my palm. It hurt. My blood was warm as it spilled onto my skin. I turned my hand, riveted as droplets stained Colby’s perfect face, landing on his lips.
I battled with warring sensations. With panic, pain and an uncontrollable urge to run to the shower and scrub myself clean.
Then Colby’s tongue darted out and licked the blood off his lips. Licked my blood off his lips.
Then another, a much stronger sensation, trumped all my trauma.
I tossed the knife on the nightstand with a clatter.
My mouth was on his in the next breath, tasting my blood in his mouth. Just like I had in the warehouse. Except then, it was forced on me. This was my choice. I had power over who I gave my soul to. And I gave it to Colby.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
“Where are we going?” I demanded.
We were at the club.
I hadn’t been back since we arrived home. I’d been kind of busy. There were visits from almost everyone connected to the club, and if they didn’t visit, I was at some kind of event or another with the women. There was shopping with Freya—which I sorely needed since I was committed to my new, damaged yet impossibly chic girl look—there was baking with Kate at her place. There were Lord of the Rings marathons with Macy—she was beyond happy that I was the only person in the girl gang who went hard for Middle Earth.
There were Pilates classes with Caroline since I did need to get fit and strong again, and fuck, did they kick my ass.
And then I spent all my free time at Violet and Elden’s place, either hanging out with Willow—who was now my ultimate bestie—when Violet had work to do or hanging out with the entire family plus Colby whenever the men didn’t have ‘club business’ to attend to.
So yeah, this bitch was busy.
I had wanted to go back to the club. Wanted to attend a club party. But I was anxious about that. Not a single one of the men made me feel weird or vulnerable when they saw me. They didn’t look at me like I was a victim. Yet I felt it. Oddly exposed whenever I was around them. It was like every one of them knew what I looked like naked. Except all of them did know what I looked like naked. Naked and chained and at my absolute worst.
So yeah, it was going to take a minute for me to party with them again like I didn’t have a care in the world.
Although I didn’t think I would ever be able to party, or even exist, like I didn’t have a care in the world.
But after an afternoon riding through the desert with Colby and some great morning sex, I was as close as I could be to not having a care in the world.
Colby had said he needed to ‘pick up a few things.’ It made sense since he was technically living with me now, still living out of a duffel. I’d given him a small drawer in my dresser, but I just couldn’t sacrifice closet space. Colby didn’t seem to mind. Probably because he had already jumped into house hunting for us.