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 have to get out. I don’t know the layout of this house, and I don’t know how far away I am from someone who might help me.
But I have to get away from Dane before he drugs me again. Or before he violates me like he did when he was the masked man.
For so many years, I’ve frozen when threatened.
Now, my freedom depends on fighting back.
I surface from my disassociated state like I’ve broken through a heavy wave, and the world comes into sharp focus. My hand shoots out, and my fingers close around the brass lamp. I twist in Dane’s hold just as his arms begin to tense around me. I can’t afford to hesitate, not even when his gorgeous eyes flare with something like betrayal.
The stained-glass lampshade smashes against the side of his head, and his grip around me loosens.
I scramble free and leap off the bed, racing for the door.
I’m in the hallway when he bellows my name like an enraged beast.
My stomach drops. I didn’t hit him hard enough. He’s coming after me.
His lumbering steps stomp behind me, uneven at first, then quickening to match mine.
“Abigail!”
Regal portraits flicker by me on either side like I’m running through an aged film reel. There’s a grand staircase at the end of the hall, and the light is brighter there. I dash toward it, breath sawing in and out of my lungs as I push myself impossibly faster.
But his strides are so much longer than mine, and he’s pounding closer with every agonizingly long second. The hallway seems to lengthen, the light growing more distant. A primal scream rips from my chest as I propel myself forward, desperation clawing at my insides.
Someone has to hear. Someone has to help me.
Because I’m out of time.
The first step of the staircase drops beneath me, but before my foot makes contact with the aged wood, the iron band of his arm loops around my waist. He drags me back into his hard chest, and I shriek in terror and defiance.
“Let me go!”
The world tilts, and my belly collides with his shoulder. He lifts me up as though I weigh nothing, and his arm clamps down on my thighs. My legs jerk uselessly in his cruel hold. I can’t get the leverage I need to kick out at him.
I slam my fists into his back and scream out my impotent rage.
I hear the sharp crack of his hand before the answering pain flares on my bottom.
“Calm down,” he growls.
He spanked me. As though I’m a child having a tantrum.
I fight harder, punching his lower back with all my strength. A feral, warning sound rumbles from his chest, but I can’t stop trying to get free.
“There’s no use screaming,” he says, unnervingly matter of fact. “No one will hear you.”
“Because you’re going to drug me again?” I bite back, writhing in his grip.
“No. Because I sent the staff away, and my family summers in Spain. We’re the only two people for miles. Now, calm down.”
A shrill laugh fills the bedroom, and I barely realize I’m making the maddened sound. “Calm down? You kidnapped me, Dane. You drugged me and brought me to another country. Let me go!”
He obliges me, and my stomach dips as I drop.
The soft mattress cushions my fall, and I immediately try to scramble away from him.
The monster is on me before I move an inch. His long fingers encircle my wrists, shackling them above my head. His other hand curves around my neck, threatening to squeeze if I continue to defy him. The weight of his body pins mine, and I squirm uselessly in his restraining hold.
“I can’t let you go, Abigail.” It’s a calm statement of fact.
His perfect features might as well be carved from ice: frigid and unfeeling. If it weren’t for the way his emerald eyes blaze, I’d think he was completely devoid of human emotion.
Blood trickles down his cheek from a small cut at his brow. I managed to inflict some damage when I struck him with the lamp, but it wasn’t enough to save me.
“I won’t go to the cops,” I promise desperately. “I won’t tell anyone what you did to me. Just let me go home.”
His jaw ticks, and his eyes flare with a dark possessiveness that I recognize all too well.
“I can’t let you go,” he repeats, and it holds the solemn ring of a life sentence.
He’s insane. The man I thought I loved is absolutely insane.
“Get your hands off me, psycho!”
He flinches, but his fingers firm around my neck, choking off my ability to hurl insults at him.
“I never claimed to be sane. I’ve let you see exactly what I am, and you begged for more.”
My lips part on shallow breaths that barely squeeze through my constricted windpipe.
“Please…” I barely manage to whisper the plea.