Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73302 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
I had to save my energy. My head was throbbing, and I was banged up and bruised from the way they’d treated me. If I could get my hands free, I’d have a chance. I’d fought through worse, but they’d done a damn good job of tying me up. I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I heard footsteps approaching.
“You never should’ve gotten mixed up with the Theriots. You should’ve left them and my business alone. At least now I get to have some fun with you.”
That cold Russian accent—it had to be Ivanov. I didn’t need to see him. I was going to have to do everything I could to stay sane through this. There was no telling what kind of hell this man was going to put me through.
He ripped the hood off my head, the rough fabric scratching across my cheeks. I blinked, trying to get my eyes to adjust quickly. I had been right; Ivanov was looming over me, holding a bat. He grabbed the edge of the duct tape and ripped it off.
“No one can hear you down here.”
So I was in a basement. I’d guessed right.
“I like hearing my victims scream and beg for mercy.” I decided then that he wouldn’t get that from me.
He swung the bat, and I nearly bit through my lip trying not to scream. The sickening pop I heard must have been my ribs cracking. It hurt like hell, but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of my screams.
I curled my body in, trying to protect myself, but Ivanov yanked me off the ground so he could punch my face. I fell over, and he grabbed the bat again. I tried to retreat into myself as he hit me again and again. He wanted me scared, he wanted me begging, but he wouldn’t get that from me. I would endure whatever he did, and I wouldn’t make it good for him. I was going to die with some dignity left.
I didn’t have any illusions of getting away. Rafe would assume I was home or investigating on my own. He sure as fuck wasn’t going to find out I was gone before I was long dead. Maria would have no idea where I was. She might worry when I didn’t check in, but she wouldn’t know what happened to me. No one would. I hadn’t been able to leave any clues. I was going to die here without ever telling Rafe how much I loved him.
At some point, I realized the beating had stopped. I heard Ivanov’s voice, but he wasn’t talking to me.
“There’s no way they’d be here.”
A pause.
“Then fucking handle it! Jesus Christ, why can’t you do anything without me?”
He nudged me with his boot and looked down at me. “Don’t worry, I will be back. And we’ll have a little chat.”
“Fuck you,” I said.
He brought the bat down on my lower leg, harder even than when he hit my ribs. That time, I did scream. I had no doubt the bone was broken.
I must’ve passed out after he left. I woke to someone calling my name—urgent, frantic. Were Ivanov’s people worried about me? Did they think I was dead and he wouldn’t get to play with me anymore?
“Dammit, Zach, wake up! Don’t be dead!”
That was Rafe? “I’m dreaming.”
“No, you’re not dreaming. Zach, wake up. I’ve got to get you out of here.”
I tried to reach for him, but of course, I couldn’t. He sliced through the ropes holding my hands. I shook my arms out, and he took my hands in his.
“Oh my God, you’re a mess. He hurt you.”
I didn’t like how scared Rafe looked, but I couldn’t lie to him. “Yeah, he had a lot of fun with me.”
“You’re going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of here. What else did he do to you?”
“Nothing. He’s nowhere near as creative at torture as you are.”
Rafe smiled now, even though there were tears running down his cheeks. “Dante says he doesn’t have the stomach for it.”
“Does Dante?”
“Oh yeah. He’s more vicious than me.”
I heard footsteps and tensed. “Rafe, get out of here. Just leave me.”
Rafe raised his gun. When Ivanov stepped around the corner, Rafe started shooting. He hit him in the center of the chest, but he didn’t stop. He kept pulling the trigger again and again.
“Rafe! Baby. That’s enough.”
Dante and Lorenzo raced toward us. Dante grabbed Rafe. “He’s dead. You can stop. It’s okay. He’s dead.”
Rafe let the gun fall, and Dante pulled him into his arms. I wanted to be the one comforting him, but I couldn’t get up, and I wasn’t entirely sure his family wouldn’t shoot me next.
Remington showed up then. “Get him out of here.” I thought he meant Rafe, because he was falling apart. Then I realized he meant me. “Paramedics are on the way.”