Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
I’m not ready for another confrontation. I’m not sure what he plans to do with me now that I tried to run away from him.
He’ll probably find some other unfathomably sadistic way to make me suffer for daring to defy him.
I’m alone with him again on this vast estate. I have vague memories of another man hovering around my bedside yesterday. A man who closely resembled Dane, other than his auburn hair. They share the same striking, deep green eyes.
His brother was here.
And now, he’s gone.
Did Dane hurt him? Did he make him disappear?
I shudder at the thought and suppress a wince at the answering flare of pain in my chest.
Surely, Dane’s not capable of harming a member of his own family, even if they are estranged.
The latch on the bathroom door clicks, and I quickly close my eyes again.
“Abigail.” He’s using his disarming, bedside manner voice again. It’s horrifically tempting to find comfort in it. “I need you to open your eyes. You hit your head hard enough to black out. I’ll have to run some cognitive tests for a few days.”
“I’m fine,” I insist.
I don’t want to interact with him at all if I can avoid it.
I hear him inhale deeply, as though he’s struggling to maintain his calm demeanor.
“I need you to cooperate. Please.” The last word is short and sharp, as though he’s unfamiliar with the shape of it on his tongue.
I finally open my eyes and meet his gaze with defiance. “No commands this morning?” I ask bitterly. “What new mindfuck game do I have to endure now?”
His eyes flash with green fire, but his face remains impassive. “This isn’t a game. You’re injured. I’m going to take care of you.”
“If I was hurt so badly, why am I not in a hospital?” I challenge.
He’s too selfishly possessive even to take me for emergency medical care.
“It was too far away, and I ascertained that I’m capable of treating you here.”
I glower at him. “At least be honest with me. You’re too scared that if you take me to a hospital, I’ll tell someone what you’ve done to me. You’ll go to jail, and you don’t want to risk that.”
A shadow flickers at his jaw. “No one will care for you like I do.”
I scoff. “Is that what you’re telling yourself to justify this? I could’ve died, Dane. And you wouldn’t have—”
“I know you could’ve died!” he thunders.
I cringe back into my pillows. I’ve never seen him so…feral. He’s more unpredictable than ever, and fear prickles down my spine.
His entire body stiffens, as though he’s willing himself not to move a muscle. I note that he hasn’t approached the bed; he’s maintaining several feet of distance between us.
Because he thinks he might hurt me? How tenuous is his control over his anger?
“Do you know how I…” He trails off and rakes a hand through his hair in a gesture of frustration I’ve rarely seen. “I can’t lose you, Abigail.”
“You mean you won’t let me go,” I counter acerbically.
He shakes his head, but it’s not a denial. He looks almost weary. “I can’t.”
That’s the only answer he offers me before he finally steps toward me. I flinch away. A scowl tugs at his handsome features, but he quickly smooths it away to a more clinical, calm expression.
“I’m going to do some tests now.” It’s a declaration, not a request.
So, we’re back to subtle commands. He might try to pretend he’s a good, compassionate man, but it’s far too late for me to believe that carefully curated lie. He’ll never ask me for anything; he’ll simply tell me what to do. He expects mindless obedience, a pretty pet.
The pounding in my head is becoming too acute for me to argue further. Dane is a doctor, and there’s no one else here to help me. After the crash, it would be stupid to deny medical treatment.
There will be time for defiance later. I won’t try to physically attack him again, but I can go back to my original plan: make him grow bored of me.
I allow him to carry out the cognitive tests, and he seems satisfied with my responses.
“Where’s your brother?” I dare to ask once he’s finished.
His lips twist with distaste, but there’s not so much as a flicker of guilt in his eyes. Either he’s deeply psychopathic, or he didn’t hurt his own kin.
With Dane, it’s difficult to judge the situation. He’s made it abundantly clear that he’s a psychopath. What I’m unsure of is the depth of his condition. At times, he does seem to mean it when he’s tender with me.
But that could be another part of his elaborate ruse, his sick mind games.
“James is back at his lodge in Wensleydale,” Dane replies coolly. “He won’t bother us again.”
My brows lift. Maybe Dane isn’t the only crazy one in the family.