Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
I need to shut this pity party down before I go inside. If I don’t, I won’t get anything done. There aren’t any lights shining from the windows, so I continue on my way.
I use the tree line to conceal my movements. The shadows swallow me, and my familiarity with the landscape makes my steps confident and quick. I remember how to get in and do exactly as she told me back then.
Doubt she ever thought this information would be used against her.
I locate the pair of doors leading down to what used to be a root cellar. The flimsy lock is pointless, thanks to years spent in the elements.
I’m not surprised Emma hasn’t noticed it’s broken. Security doesn’t seem to concern her. And she thinks she’s competition for my family. I snort, and the sound echoes through the large space. I find the stairs that lead up to the butler’s pantry in the dark.
All is quiet on the main level, with everyone tucked safely into bed. I move cautiously, listening for any sound that might mean a witness I’d have to silence. That would make this whole situation uglier than it needs to be.
Doesn’t mean I won’t get my hands dirty if necessary, though.
I reach the foot of the stairs and stop, straining my ears for even a hint of a sound. When I get nothing, I continue forward, taking the stairs two at a time. At the landing, I turn right.
My heart picks up speed as my anticipation builds.
I creep down the hall and pause outside her door.
A feral smile curves my lips unconsciously. I probably look like a fucking psychopath right now. I wait for a heartbeat, grab the knob, and ease the door open.
As soon as I open the door, her sweet scent of berries and sugar reaches me, making my gut clench. Fuck me. She always smells good enough to eat.
Remember why you’re here.
Stepping into the room, I close the door behind me, lock it just in case, and face the four-poster bed across the room.
She’s sleeping peacefully. Unaware of the nightmare lurking so close it could suffocate her. I don’t so much as blink, or even breathe, when she rolls onto her back and throws an arm over her head. I just stand there, watching her, my heart beating like a drum inside my chest. It’s like I’m in a trance and unable to look away.
After a few seconds, I creep closer. Her red hair is splayed out across the white sheets. She looks like a porcelain doll, her features so beautiful that she almost seems unreal. I study her high cheekbones, my gaze burning a path across her face, over her tiny nose, and heart-shaped lips. She’s too pure to touch when your hands are as bloody and filthy as mine.
I slink closer in the dark, then slowly pull back the silk duvet, revealing her body inch by inch. She’s wearing a pink satin top and matching shorts that might as well be liquid poured over her luscious curves. The moonlit fabric gleams with every rise and fall of her chest and makes hunger unfurl low in my belly.
When my dick starts aching behind my zipper, I bite back a groan as I adjust myself. She might be beautiful, but the power she has over me, the control, makes me feel weak, especially after everything she’s done to me.
Before I can question myself, I reach out and give her hip a rough shake.
Slowly, her eyes blink open, her lids fluttering as she wakes.
I don’t give her the chance to figure out what’s happening. Using her disorientation to my advantage, I pin her to the bed with my weight and leverage one arm across her chest.
“You didn’t really think I would let you spew all that shit without consequences, did you?”
She opens her mouth, most likely to scream or call for help, but it doesn’t matter. I silence her by placing a hand over her lips. “This little mouth of yours has caused enough problems. Let’s keep it shut for a bit.”
Her pupils dilate, a wild look flickering in them. The air in my lungs stills, and for a fraction of a second, I’m caught up in that fear, caught up in the intensity of it. I don’t want to physically hurt her, but the power I feel seeing the terror in her eyes swamps me.
There’s no point in hiding the truth.
I’m a fucking nightmare.
In my distraction, I lose myself, giving Allie the chance to reach forward and rake her nails over the back of my hand, clawing me like a cat. Son of a bitch.
Pinpricks of pain ripple across my skin, and I suck a hoarse breath into my lungs.
Fuck. I glance down where she broke the skin, and blood wells up over the scratches. “You drew blood, so I guess that means I get to draw yours now.”