Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 272(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
Forcing a smile, I give him a slight nod. I wish my fear away as well, but I can’t imagine a world where I wouldn't be terrified of a killer who enjoys death.
9
Alaric
I'm enjoying having my little captive around. It’s sure as hell managed to keep my cock hard every time I smell her scent in the hallway or catch a glimpse of her blond hair and pretty face. Her body is a distraction I didn't know I wanted, and I find myself readjusting my pants around her to hide my damn boner.
I can tell she still doesn't trust me, though. It's written all over her gorgeous face. And I fucking hate that somebody in her life must've let her down so badly that she still can't bring herself to trust.
I'm in my own bedroom tonight, tossing and turning when the urge to check in on her forces me to push my feet out from the duvet. I only have on a pair of pajama bottoms, my torso exposed, as I pad to her bedroom down the hall.
I open the door with a soft click, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. Walking up to the bed, I remember coming on her pretty little face that time in her apartment, and the same urge makes me push down the waistband of my pants and pull out my already throbbing cock.
But then I notice something in her expression that worries me. Her bottom lip is trembling, and she keeps shivering in the bed even though it's warm inside. Knitting my brows together, I cover my cock again and gently tuck away a curl from her forehead.
Her skin is slick with sweat, and it's obvious she's having a nightmare. I don't know shit about nightmares, but the way she's shaking and trembling makes me want to wake her up and tell her everything's okay.
I crawl into the bed and pull her trembling body against mine.
"Shh, it's okay," I mutter into her mass of hair, telling myself my vulnerability in this case doesn't matter. She's not even awake yet. She keeps shaking, her teeth chattering as I pull her on top of me. Finally, her eyes slowly open, and she mutters something I don't catch until she repeats it.
"Please, not again. Not again.”
"It's okay." I pull more messy strands of hair off her face. "I'm here. You're safe. You were just having a bad dream."
"A...Alaric?" She rubs her eyes before settling against me. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard you crying out in your sleep."
"Liar." She grins at me, and I can't help but return the smile. "You were watching me sleep again, weren't you? Were you going to come on me again?"
"I guess you'll never know." I pull her against mine, nuzzling her hair. But then I remember who I'm supposed to be. A ruthless fucking killer. I shouldn't be doing this, shouldn't be getting attached. I pull back, and she thankfully doesn't seem to notice. "But you were having a nightmare, Monroe. A bad one."
"I know," she mutters, pulling away from me. I fight every instinct in me not to order her to stay. "It happens a lot."
"The same dream?" She nods. "About what?"
I can tell Monroe doesn't want to tell me the answer, but it's right on the tip of her tongue.
"Come on." I pull her back and she doesn’t fight me, though her body is rigid with fear. "I'm not going to hurt you, Monroe. Just tell me. I'm here to help."
”I..." She bites her bottom lip, worrying it between her teeth. "I have nightmares about... something from my past."
Even though every word is hard to get out of her, I'm determined to find out the truth. I nod, saying, "I understand. A certain event from your past?"
"Yes."
"Who did it involve?"
She hesitates, nervously tugging on a strand of blond hair before finally muttering, "My stepfather."
"What happened?" She shakes her head, and now it seems like she's unable to get the words out. But I'm not going to give up that easily. One way or another, I'll find out the truth. "Tell me, Monroe. Please. I want to know."
"When I misbehaved..." Her voice cracks, but she clears her throat and forces herself to keep going. "He used to lock me in a closet when I was a kid."
"What the fuck?" My brows furrow, and my hands tighten into fists. Already, the need to beat the shit out of this prick is making me fucking pissed off. "Who does that? Why?"
She shrugs. "I guess he just thought it would make me more obedient."
"You were a kid,” I growl. "How old were you?"
Another noncommittal shrug, and her eyes refusing to meet mine. But I'm not going to back town now, I'm determined to find out the truth.
"Tell me, Monroe."
"What's the point?" She manages a nervous smile. "All it will do is piss you off."