Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Pitch-black solitude.
CHAPTER 10
Beast
The moment I step into his office, I can feel the tension.
It’s thicker than oxygen.
Thicker even than the hard-on I was sporting mere minutes ago when I was on the verge of taking my prize.
My nostrils flare at the sight of my owner casually puffing away at a pipe near his fireplace, unaware of what he interrupted.
One day.
One fucking day…
“Beast,” he says between puffs. “I take it you understand why I brought you up here?”
“No,” I respond.
I don’t like games. He plays too many.
He glances at me over his shoulder. “You know I don’t play, right?”
Wrong.
“Yes,” I lie.
“I don’t like it when my men don’t listen to me,” he continues, throwing me a casual smile. “And I think you’ve learned that lesson more than any other here, haven’t you?”
I nod.
“Did you enjoy your meal?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, tilting my head.
“Good.” Another vicious smile follows, and he takes another puff of his cigar. “I hope you’re grateful for your second chance.”
I know what that was, and I know what this is.
A reminder of my place in this world.
And his ability to take everything I need to live away from me with a simple snap of his fingers.
“Thank you for the food,” I reply. “I won’t take it for granted.”
“Will you do your job properly this time?” he asks.
I nod. “To the best of my abilities.”
He pulls his cigar away and turns to look at me. “Now, you know that’s not an answer. Do you want to skip another meal?”
“No, sir,” I reply, staring off at the wall.
He sneers at me. “You want to eat at all?”
My fists tighten.
The prospect of losing food, the only thing that keeps me alive in that cold, harsh cell, is nothing short of maddening, and I struggle not to punch him in the throat right this very second for daring to try to take it away from me.
But I feel the eyes of the guard prodding my back, along with his gun.
I have no intention of losing my life without any gain.
Not yet … not yet.
“You should be happy you’re still alive,” my owner says. “After failing my most basic order.”
I don’t respond.
“I’ve shown you how upset I am.” He walks to me with calculated steps, stopping right in front of me. “So what do you intend to do about it?”
It sounds like a question, but it’s really not.
Because I have no choice.
I never did.
I swallow. “I will fix my mistake.”
He tilts his head, looking me dead in the eyes as he says, “Then find him.”
Aurora
DRIP. DRIP. DRIP.
Water droplets falling down into the sink capture my attention. The sound they make reminds me of my own beating heart. Reminds me that I’m still alive here in the dark.
I swallow as the door is opened once more.
I don’t know how long it’s been since I was left here by myself, but every second is too damn long. Alone with my thoughts, nothing but silence and screams alternate in my mind, making me insane.
No wonder that beastly man became so savage.
Anyone would when faced with pure and utter darkness for hours on end.
Days.
Weeks. Months. Years.
God, how could anyone survive that long in this cold, damp cell?
I shake off the jitters, but it’s no use. Especially not when two feet appear from the light upstairs, slowly coming down the steps.
When his face comes into view, my entire body erupts into goose bumps.
It’s the same guard who took Beast upstairs.
The same one who locked me in here.
Raymond.
And the wretched smile on his face tells me he’s up to no good.
I crawl into a corner, hoping and praying he won’t see me.
But of course he already knows I’m here. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.
“Little girl, c’mon now, show your face,” he jests, sauntering to the cage, dangling the key in his hand like a prize. “I know you’re in there …”
“What do you want from me?” I reply.
He laughs. “Is that the way you’re gonna behave? Maybe I should take this back upstairs then.” He dangles a piece of bread in front of the cell, and my mouth begins to water. “And eat it myself.”
He pulls it away again, making me want to run to him and snatch it out of his hands.
Which is exactly what he wants.
He’s taunting me.
I can’t let him get to me. Or anyone else in this house, for that matter.
“Do what you want. I don’t care,” I reply, looking away.
He clutches the bars. “C’mon now, I know you’re hungry. I can hear your stomach all the way upstairs.”
He holds out the piece of bread again, and the thought of him eating it instead of me makes me want to run at those bars and fight him for it.
Is this what that beastly man went through?
Every day?
For years?
I suck in a breath and stay put out of pure will, despite being hungry as hell.