Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 613(@200wpm)___ 490(@250wpm)___ 409(@300wpm)
“Why would you have an enemy try to do that? I don’t know anything about your business. I don’t do those kinds of favors, either, and I don’t—”
“I have an enemy who would try to do that because he’d rather me live and suffer, than be free and die. He knows I’m not afraid of death. But I am deathly allergic to prison. He also projects his worst fears onto others. See, a true enemy takes what you hate most and uses it against you. Lets you feel the pain. Day in. Day out. Death is mercy. He’d show no mercy, but force you to watch everything be set on fire, the blaze spreading as more gasoline is added to the fire. You’re the type of lady he’d like to hire… Someone whose work is irrefutable. Trusted. Clear and crisp. Artistic but genuine. He’d send you over during a power outage. That’s genius, really. To use one’s weak spot against them.”
“You’ve got this all wrong.”
“I might, but I’m still on to something… Every minute that passes, I am figuring it out. The weak spot is what has helped keep me safe, too. My business is out in the middle of nowhere. You were out in the middle of nowhere. You were on site when I wasn’t, during a power outage right after a storm. That’s not a coincidence.” He grabbed a wobbly rusted chair from a corner, turned it around and sat in it, across from her. “Who have you told about this?”
“No one.”
He got up and kicked her chair, a sudden move that had her fall fast and hard onto the floor.
“AHHHH! Shit!” She lay on her side, her shoulder possibly dislocated.
“Let’s try this again. Who have you told about this?”
“Told WHAT?!!”
“About my business… my men… about me…”
“I didn’t give any details! I just… I just said to a friend of mine that I might have a good story. THAT’S IT! I’m superstitious! I never tell what I have until I have all of it!”
“I’m going to get into your phone. Your computer. Everything you own and possess. I am going to destroy your life, Honey, in a matter of minutes if you don’t give me what I want, and then, I’m going to kill you.”
“I told you I wasn’t sent by anyone, and I don’t know what you want! What is it? Money?! Tell me!”
“You’ll see…” He walked out of the room, leaving her on the floor. Shrill screams echoed as he locked the door and made his way back to the elevator. Once he’d returned to the control room, he watched her squirming about, still struggling to free herself…
Time marched on, until she was exhausted. Unmoving… Her eyes were open, her breathing shallow. He turned the heat on in her cell, then checked his watch. Time to go to work, so he headed to the warehouse. When he returned hours later to his house and ventured into the control room, he saw her again. A part of him had been eager to get back and study her. This time, she was glaring up at the corner of the room… at the camera through which he observed her as if she were some strange science experiment. A look of hatred danced in her eyes.
He grabbed her phone and toyed with it until he’d finally gotten in and accessed her information. Next would be her computer, and that would be far more complicated. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a PC but a fucking MacBook. Apple’s security was far more superior, tedious and difficult to crack, but he’d learned from the best. His sister—a well-versed hacker and notorious I.T. spy, Irish used her skills for evil versus good. It was moments like this when he was glad he’d asked her for a few crash courses in such matters. Now she was rotting in a prison cell for unrelated offenses.
Time waits for no one…
But as far as he was concerned, he had all the time in the world.
CHAPTER FIVE
Honey blinked several times, wondering what time it was. She slipped in and out of consciousness, stuck in the sticky chains of a web of confusion. Her body was hot and sweaty all over, and her heart felt like it was beating extremely slowly—as if she were melting, being dragged down to a depth unknown to man. She wiggled her wrists, but felt the metal against her skin. She struggled against a feeling of sickening inebriation and panic. She fought another wave of sleep and a slow, scary slip into darkness commenced…
I’m floating…
Visions of big, rough hands tearing at her skin made her want to scream, only she was unable to open her mouth. Voices rose all around her, speaking a foreign language. Thick accents. Strange music. Wetness along her face. A tongue thrust between her lips, bumping against her teeth. Hot, cigarette laden breath. Burning between her thighs. She sank her teeth into hairy flesh. Heard a male groan in pain. Her nails dug deep into olive skin. Black hair from a thick beard brushed against her.