Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
And now, she wants me to be merciful. As if she deserves mercy.
Prince is waiting in the car and lifts his brows in a silent question when he sees us approaching. I shake my head—no, I most certainly do not need help with her. She’s the one who needs help.
And damn, is she fortunate she’s carrying my child. I’ve never been one to beat a woman, but I would definitely make her feel it. She wouldn’t sit for a week by the time I was finished with her. Running away. Making a fool out of me.
I want to say all of it and more. I want her to know exactly what she’s done. What a fool she turned me into—to think, I was looking forward to seeing her. The anger and betrayal blazing in my chest are almost enough to choke me, but I somehow manage to get her into the back seat without losing my grip. To her credit, she didn’t do anything stupid, like try to alert someone to the trouble she’s in.
Without saying a word, I reach over her once she’s seated and snap the belt in place. “I can do that myself,” she whispers, and I slam the door closed in response. I can’t trust her with even something as simple as that now. She may not give a damn what happens to her, but I do. And she can’t care, not after this little display.
What good could she possibly have imagined that would do? Running away? She has nowhere to go. I would have found her sooner if the campus wasn’t so big. But I knew she was here because it’s the only place she has. How pitiful.
Yet she tries to run away from me? From a comfortable home, a lifestyle she could never have known without me? It’s unfathomable.
Prince drives the route, quiet for once. Smart enough to keep his mouth shut. I have no doubt I’ll hear about this later, though if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll pretend this never happened.
Then again, how can he pretend? He has to oversee the cleanup efforts back at the house.
Alicia’s quiet, too. Another small miracle. What’s she doing now? Plotting her next escape attempt? When is she going to get it through her skull? There’s no escaping me? She is in way over her head and totally outmatched, but it seems she hasn’t gotten the memo.
Perhaps now she will. Now that we’ve arrived at the house. She makes a point of unbuckling herself, but I take her by the arm the moment she’s out of the car with her bags in hand. Instead of going through the front door, I hang a right, walking around the outside of the house, through the gate of the tall privacy fence, then back to the garage. She doesn’t say a word, but she’s trembling. Probably wondering why I would bring her back here.
“I thought you would like to see this. The results of your actions.” I can barely get the words out, but I force myself through it because she needs to hear it. She deserves to.
She gasps once we’re inside, and I can admit to myself we couldn’t have come at a better time. Those guards still alive after this morning’s debacle have stacked the bodies on top of a plastic sheet and are now cleaning up what looks like a lake of congealed blood.
I hold her in place when she tries to turn away. “Look at it,” I mutter, holding her close to me, taking her by the jaw, and turning her face toward the grisly sight. “The least you can do is look at what you’ve created. These men didn’t need to die. You took advantage of them because you were feeling childish and irresponsible, and thanks to your rash decision-making, they’re all dead.”
“I didn’t… I mean, I never…”
“It’s a little late for all of that now, isn’t it? Because you did. Eventually, you’re going to learn your actions have consequences.” She’s looking green and swaying on her feet, but that’s good. She needs to remember this. If self-preservation isn’t good enough and protecting her unborn child isn’t either, perhaps she’ll take this more seriously now that she’s seen the very real aftermath.
“So you killed them? It wasn’t their fault. They didn’t help me.”
“They didn’t stop you, though, because they were either asleep on the job or fucking off somehow. I should thank you for revealing their unsuitability, really.” She only moans softly, an almost pained sound. “Eventually, you’ll understand this isn’t a game.”
She offers no protest when we leave the garage. Her deep gulps of air tell me she’s fighting to keep herself together. “Buck up,” I mutter. “You can handle it. I bet you don’t even know any of their names.” Her only response is a shuddery breath.