Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I can see the moment it all comes rushing back. Her entire body tenses before she begins thrashing like a cornered animal, but my knots hold.
“Stop that!” I scold. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You’re hurting me,” she whimpers, her eyes darting around the dimly lit space.
“I wouldn’t have to hurt you if you’d just listen.”
“Okay.” She nods, tears filling her eyes. “I-I’m listening.”
Having her solitary focus is a rush—a high better than any drug. She’s all mine, mine, mine and she’s looking at me, me, me.
Finally.
“Good.” I grab a chair from the table and drag it over to where I have her bound on the loveseat in my studio apartment. “The first time I saw you… I knew you were the one.”
“At… The Creek?” she asks, causing me to grind my molars.
“No.” I twitch in my seat, muscles straining as I hold myself back from striking her. She shouldn’t be bruised for our wedding. “We met years ago. In high school.”
“Did we?” Her voice is barely a whisper as she looks anywhere but at me. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t remember.”
I stand abruptly, sending my chair flying backwards. “Don’t worry, Petal.” I twine my fingers into her hair and wrench her gaze up to meet mine. “I’m happy to help you remember.”
“Clint, please stop.”
“You beg so pretty.” I tighten my grip before forcing her away. “We met sophomore year. Biology. I… I let you copy my notes.”
“Oh… Oh!” She swallows thickly. “That was you.”
“Surprise!” I throw my hands out wide, accidentally clipping her in the temple.
She cries out, and I rush her, brushing her hair away from her face to inspect the point of contact. “It’s only a little red. You’ll be fine.”
“Please let me go,” she sobs.
“Let you go?” I tsk at her. “Petal, I can’t let you go. You’re mine, don’t you get it?”
She shakes her head, and I see red. “This is the start of our forever,” I shout. “Soon, you’ll be Scarlet Downey and—”
“Clint, stop, please,” she cuts me off, her voice going higher and higher with each word.
“Do. Not. Interrupt. Me.” I bite off the words, seething. “A good bride is seen and not heard.”
“Bride?” It seems as pretty as she is, Scarlet’s a little slow on the uptake.
“Haven’t you noticed your dress?”
Her eyes flare wide as she glances down, taking in the satin and tulle dress I had made for her. “You… dressed me?” Her delicate throat bobs as she inspects herself as best she can with her limited range of movement.
I groan as a vision of me crushing her windpipe slams into me. Lucky for her, I shake off the urge. This is not the time for violence. Not yet.
“Of course.” I boop her nose. “You couldn’t very well do it while you were sleeping. Now, we need to pack. We’re already behind schedule.”
“Behind schedule—” Her jaw snaps shut with an audible clack. “You know what, you’re… you’re right. You should, um, untie me so I can help you.”
I cast her a dubious look.
“We…” Her eyes slide left to right as she studies the tulle. “We have a-a lot of time to make up for, right?” she asks, and I nod. “And y-you said we were going to be late. So let… let me help.”
Silently, I weigh the pros and cons of untying her. I may as well. Worst case, I can sedate her again.
“Okay.” I move around to the back of the loveseat. “But, Petal, don’t make me regret this.”
“I-I won’t.”
She cradles her wrists to her chest once the ropes give way, massaging them to aid her circulation.
“There’s a suitcase in the closet,” I tell her. “Along with some clothes for you. Pack them all.”
She nods and tries to stand, wobbling dangerously before regaining her balance. “Okay.”
I watch her like a hawk as she stumbles toward the closet. Luckily my place is small and allows me to see her no matter what. My Petal can’t hide from me here.
She’s trying to hide the shaking of her hands as she rifles through the closet. “Are these... my clothes?”
“Mostly. I bought a few things, too.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders shake as she wraps her arms around herself. “Okay.”
She’s crying. Why is she crying? I tip my head to the side as I study her. She must be excited about the new clothes and overcome with gratitude.
“You don’t need to cry, Petal. A few new outfits are the least of what I have planned for you.” I flick my eyes to the empty suitcase and clap my hands together twice and order, “Get to packing.”
“Sorry.” She rips a shirt off the hanger and throws it into the open suitcase.
“Neatly, Scarlet.” My voice cracks like a whip through the small space.
She visibly recoils before bending at the waist to retrieve the shirt, returning it to the suitcase after folding it nice and tidy.