Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90778 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
He stands abruptly, his sudden movement making me flinch again. He starts pacing, running a hand through his hair as he mutters to himself. Then, as if struck by a thought, he spins around and glares at me.
“You’re going to love me,” he declares, his voice rising with unhinged conviction. “Even if I have to make you.”
Charles has become unhinged. Losing his money, his ancestral home and me has driven him insane. There is no talking logic with him. I have to find a way to convince him that I’m secretly in love with him. Secretly, I struggle harder against the ropes. He steps forward, leaning down so his face is level with mine. “You’re mine now,” he says, his tone dropping into something low and menacing. “We’re going to leave this place, just you and me. Far away from everyone.”
I shake my head violently, muffled protests spilling from behind the gag. His expression darkens, and he grabs my chin roughly, forcing me to look at him. Then he pulls down the gag.
“Don’t fight me, Raven,” he snarls. “You don’t have a choice. You’re mine.”
Gathering every ounce of courage I have left, I look him dead in the eye and say, “I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. I was just playing hard to get because I didn’t know how else to get you.”
It is as if I unknowingly flicked a kill switch inside him. Without warning his expression twists into something monstrous. His hand snaps across my face, the sharp crack of his slap echoing in the room. Pain explodes across my cheek, and I gasp, my vision swimming.
“Stop lying. You think I’m stupid. No, you ungrateful trailer park trash, I’m not stupid,” he hisses, his voice trembling with rage. “You think you can humiliate me? After everything I’ve done for you?”
His hand clenches into a fist, but he doesn’t strike again. Instead, he steps back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a knife. The sight of the blade sends a fresh wave of terror coursing through me. He waves it in front of me, his lips curling into a cruel smile.
“You’re going to behave,” he says, his tone almost mocking, “or this will end very badly for you.”
The sudden sound of shattering glass from upstairs freezes us both. My breath catches, and Charles’s head snaps toward the ceiling, his entire body going rigid. The knife trembles slightly in his hand as he stares at the dark hallway leading to the stairs.
“What the hell was that?” he mutters, his voice low and filled with suspicion.
Every nerve in my body is on edge as he moves toward the staircase, his footsteps cautious and deliberate. The house falls eerily silent, the only sound is my ragged breathing and the faint creak of the wooden steps under his weight.
Then, chaos erupts.
The crash of something heavy colliding with the floor reverberates through the house, followed by muffled shouts and the unmistakable sounds of a struggle. The noises grow louder, followed by the sound of bodies slamming into walls. It makes the room shake. My mind races with the worst possibilities as every second stretches into eternity.
The commotion moves closer, and then Charles’s body crashes down the stairs, landing in a crumpled heap at the bottom. Blood smears the floor where he lands, his face contorted in pain and fury. My breath catches in my throat, and my eyes dart to the top of the stairs.
Earl stands there, his chest heaving, his face bruised and bloodied but alive. Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as Charles groans and starts to stir.
“Earl, watch out!” I scream, my voice hoarse and raw.
Earl doesn’t hesitate. He descends the stairs with stunning speed. Grabbing Charles by the collar, he lands a solid punch to his face. The force of the blow sends blood spraying, but Charles fights back, clawing and thrashing like a wounded animal.
“You fucking sick bastard,” Earl roars, his voice echoing with fury.
The fight is brutal, with both men grappling and throwing punches with everything they have. Earl gains the upper hand, pinning Charles to the ground and delivering blow after blow until Charles is barely conscious.
When Earl stops, his chest rises and falls violently as he catches his breath. He turns to me, his eyes softening despite the blood and rage etched into his features.
“I’ve got you,” he says, his voice hoarse as he cuts the ropes binding me.
Before I can answer, Charles lets out a low, guttural laugh. He sits up, his face a bloody mess, and pulls a gun from his waistband.
“If I can’t have her,” he rasps, his voice filled with malice, “no one will.”
The world slows as he raises the gun, aiming it at me. Earl moves faster than I can comprehend. He throws himself in front of me just as the shot rings out.