Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 784(@200wpm)___ 627(@250wpm)___ 522(@300wpm)
He crossed the room in two strides, eyes furious, and stomped on what was left of the burned list.
“What have you done?”
Flames reflected in his silver eyes. His dark hair was disheveled, his crisp, white collar speckled with red that looked remarkably like blood.
“Answer me!”
Daisy tensed, reflexively stepping back, forgetting the fire was right behind her. He grabbed her arm with swollen hands, split at the knuckles. More blood.
She looked down at the singed burn hole in the carpet. The note was gone. “Why did you write that list?”
Rather than answer, he yanked up her scorched sleeve, exposing her burned skin. “You’re hurt.”
She tugged her arm away. “Did you set it up? Did you send them for me?”
His mouth formed a flat, disapproving line. Scowling, he snatched her hand and tugged her toward the bathroom, but Daisy jerked her hand out of his grip. “Let go of me!”
“You need—”
“I don’t need anything from you. You’re one of them. But worse. Who are you? Why did you have that list?”
“That list is private.”
“Like the files?” She flung out a hand. “What is all this? Are you the J.T.? Who’s R.A.? Why are you doing this? Did you pick me on purpose?”
“I didn’t pick you,” he growled through clenched teeth.
“Then why am I here?”
His grey eyes moved slowly across the room, cataloging the wreckage, before landing on her with sharp accusation. Cold and dangerous. “I don’t know.”
Daisy’s frantic gaze dropped to his hands, then jumped to his collar. “Is that blood?”
He took a step forward, and she panicked, reaching for the poker and accidentally knocking down the rest of the fire irons in the process. Metal clattered, and she tugged.
“No!” His battered hand closed around her wrist, squeezing where her skin had blistered, shaking loose her grip.
“No!” she screamed, wrestling the poker free.
He jerked it out of her hand. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Defend myself!”
“From who?”
“You!”
“I’m trying to fucking protect you!” He threw the poker, and Daisy ran.
“I can protect myself!” Breathless and terrified, she bolted for the door, throwing herself against the wood as she frantically twisted the key.
He crashed into her, looping an arm under hers and pulling her back.
“No!” She kicked and screamed, thrashing wildly to break his hold. Swinging her head back, her skull connected hard with his face, and he dropped her.
“Fuck!”
She unlocked the door and dove into the hall.
“Daisy!”
No idea where she was, she ran as hard and fast as she could toward the end where the corridor turned.
“Daisy, get back here!”
Her legs pumped and her lungs worked. He was gaining on her. She sprinted right. Music pounded from below. She passed a staircase. It was a funnel of endless doors. A woman laughed. A naked couple, plastered against a wall. Some doors were opened. Beds. Bodies. Moans. A wide hall.
She turned right. Left. Another right. The music faded until his pounding footsteps were all she could hear. He was a wave, building—closer and closer—about to crush her.
Ahead was a table and a vase. The hall split. Left or right. How far could she go?
“Daisy, stop! You can’t go there!”
She didn’t listen. Her legs burned as her muscles screamed and her blood pumped. Almost there. Her feet slid as she prepared to take the sharp turn.
A massive giant of a man with black hair and terrifying eyes appeared out of nowhere. She was moving too fast to stop when his arm, thicker than her waist, snapped out, like a swinging steel bar.
“No!” Jack yelled, but it was too late.
The world whipped sideways as her feet left the ground. She soared through the air, thrown back hard enough to take flight. Then she landed hard enough that her vision sparked and her head snapped forward, then back.
Pain exploded up her spine as hot pressure seemed to collapse her larynx. Daisy sprawled across the floor. A death wheeze escaped as she gripped her throat, which was now a pinhole too small for her to suck in air.
Jack’s face flew into view. He pulled at her hands, but she fought him. “Look at me.”
A horrific peal of breath rasped through her windpipe. She was going to die.
The beastly man who clotheslined glared down at them, not an ounce of remorse in his cold, black eyes. “No one enters family wing,” he growled in a thick Russian accent. “Rules are rules.”
“Daisy, look at me,” Jack demanded, ignoring the Russian giant.
Panicked she would suffocate in this house of horrors, she clawed at her throat.
Her vision swam behind a wall of tears, strangled by an invisible hand that wouldn’t let go.
She gasped and shook her head. She needed air.
“Don’t panic,” Jack said, hoisting her off the floor and holding her upright.
She leaned into him, terrified of the man standing over them. Hulking. Scarred. Flat, dead eyes.
“Hey—hey, look at me.”
Her hands clawed at her throat, eyes wide, panic flashing so bright she could see little else. “I—” The words broke into a rasp. Air scraped painfully.