Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
“Hai-dyn.” She sobs, and a lump forms in my throat while he pins the side of her face down into the mud.
I’m sorry, doll face.
Hudson grunts, pushing deep inside her, and comes. He gets to his feet and laughs down at her as she holds her eyes tightly shut, gasping for breath.
“Next,” her mother calls out, and another man falls to his knees. She fights the rope that’s got her tied in place. “It’s just sex, dear,” her mother tells her. “We’ve all been through this. It will make you stronger.”
“Ple-ease,” she begs, and it kills me. “Haidyn, stop them…help me!”
I’m sorry.
She closes her bloodshot eyes, unable to look at me. They’re doing this to her because of me. It’s about torturing me. My wife is innocent and was never given all the facts about the life she thought she wanted.
I’ve betrayed her. I’ve failed at the one thing I told her I’d do—protect her. Instead, I’m allowing men to line up and rape her like an offering to the Lords while I lay on the ground unable to move and forced to watch it happen. To remind me that I have no say in what happens to her. She belongs to them now, and they’re going to do whatever they want.
When the last guy is done, Hudson throws the knife down, and it lands blade down in the mud next to her head. Everyone leaves us alone out by the fence, and I’m finally able to move again.
I crawl to her, grabbing the knife and cut the rope that binds her wrists behind her bent knees. Then I pick her up and take her straight inside to a bathroom, where I lay her in the tub. I start the water and set the drain.
She’s covered in dirt and blood. She’s bleeding in multiple places—wrists, ankles, and her neck where she fought the barbed wire. Her ass where Hudson removed her brand. I turn to the cabinets and yank them up, slamming them shut. I find three washcloths and duct tape. I wrap one around each of her wrists as tightly as I can and then place the tape around each one, making sure the washcloths stay in place to help stop the bleeding and not to get wet while she’s in the tub. Then I fold the last one and place it around her bleeding neck, holding it tightly to her throat.
My eyes go to hers and see they’re dead, lifeless. There’s nothing there. Those dark blue-sapphire eyes that I fell in love with no longer exist. She stopped crying during the third guy and shut down. Went numb.
“You’re okay, doll face,” I tell her, knowing it’s a goddamn lie. This is what they wanted. Her broken and compliant. The water fills the tub as the dirt and blood swirl around her. “I’m sorry, Charlotte. I couldn’t kill you. I love you.” I couldn’t do it. I know it’s the most cowardly thing I’ve ever done. But I just can’t let her go. It doesn’t matter what she’s been through; I’ll love her the same way and take care of her. She’s my wife. I took vows.
A single tear falls from the corner of her eye before she speaks. “I hate you.”
I blink, and she’s gone. I’m no longer in the bathroom. She’s no longer in the tub. “Charlotte?” I bark, starting to panic when I see nothing but darkness. “CHARLOTTE!”
“How was it?” A woman’s familiar voice fills my ears as a light turns on, blinding me.
“What the fuck did you do to her, you fucking bitch? Where did you take her?” I’m gasping for air, trying to get up, but I can’t move. I blink rapidly needing my eyes to adjust to the harsh light.
“Haidyn, you’re hallucinating,” Isabella speaks.
“No—”
“Yeah, that’s what the drugs do to you. Nothing is more terrifying than a mind. It knows your worst fears. You can’t escape it. And I was in yours for six months. I know how it works.”
“History has a way of repeating itself, Haidyn. Remember that.” She had said to me when I found her in my house while Charlotte was in my bed. She wanted me to remember what she made me do to Sierra and put Charlotte in the same position.
“For the next several days, you’ll have hallucinations. It’s poetic, really. You’re going to drive yourself mad, putting the woman you love through so much pain and suffering because we both know your biggest fear is living without her.” She snorts. “And although I tell you it’s not real, it’ll feel real. Every single time.”
I blink, trying to get my breathing under control. My jaw is sore from being clenched so tight.
She walks over to the bed, and I wonder if any of it was real? Was I ever hanging from the ceiling in this concrete box? If so, when did she cut me down and secure me back in the hospital bed?