Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Well, Ray.” He gives me a chilling smile. “You’re not as good of a faker as you thought.”
When he removes his boot, I roll onto my side and suck in a shaky breath while I cough, making my throat burn. The gag makes it even more difficult to breathe.
He grips my hair and yanks me up, dragging me up onto the couch. Then he’s untying the gag from around my mouth and tosses it onto the coffee table.
“God, I never thought you were a coward,” I say roughly as he walks around to go sit in a chair across from me.
He throws his head back laughing, making his Adam’s apple bob. “I always knew you were a whore, Ray. Why do you think I dated you in the first place?”
“Fuck you!” I shout, my hands trying to fight the tape around my wrists. I need something to cut it with. If I could break some glass…
“Ah, Ray.” He removes his phone from his pocket and punches in a password, then stands it up against a bowl on the table, facing me, and I see it’s recording. “Since you like to record yourself.” He stands from the chair and walks over to me.
I lift my feet, since I still have my tennis shoes on, and try to kick him away, but he shoves them down and slaps me across the face. So hard it knocks me off my sore ass and down to my side. I cry out into the couch cushion, tears stinging my eyes at the force. I like being slapped during sex, but Colt has never hit me that hard.
“Shh.” He sits me back up. “It’s okay.” He pushes my hair from my tear-streaked and snot-covered face. I duck my head, but he grips my hair and yanks my head back before slapping me again.
I spit on him.
He wipes it from his face and smiles at me. Yanking me from the couch, he shoves me to my knees and holds me hostage in front of his phone by my hair. “Tell him,” he growls in my ear. “Tell Colt that you’re my dirty fucking slut now.”
“No—”
He slams my face into the coffee table, and I see fucking stars. Pain explodes behind my eyes, and my vision goes black for a moment. Blood runs out of the corner of my already busted lips.
Pulling my limp head back, he reaches forward and fixes the phone that got knocked over in the process. “Tell him,” he snaps. “Tell him how much you’re going to enjoy me tying you down and letting my friends fuck you.” He grips my busted face with his free hand. “Hmm? They’re going to use you like the whore you are, baby.”
Showing my bloody teeth, I look at him in the phone, “Fuck you, you piece of—”
“Fucking hardheaded bitch!” He slams me into the table again, but he lets me go and I fall to my side on the floor this time.
Coughing, I spit blood out and close my heavy eyes. My right one is swelling. I can feel my heartbeat in my cheek, pounding away.
He steps over me and goes into the kitchen area. I see the phone has fallen off the table as well but it’s still recording, laying on its side in front of me.
I look like I’ve been stung by a bee. My upper lip is so swollen. I’ve got multiple cuts on my bloody face. I’m not sure if they’re from the car wreck or him.
Tears sting my eyes, and I have to look away from the phone, so I don’t get upset. Now is not the time. I can cry about it later when I’m alive and free from this psycho.
Looking around, I see him standing in the kitchen. His hands are on the table. There are a lot of power tools, along with tape and ropes, covering the surface. I’m sure I can use something on there to fight him off with. I just need my hands free.
Rolling more onto my chest, I move my wrists, twisting them back and forth, trying to loosen the tape. There’s more give than there was when I woke up, and it gives me hope.
My adrenaline is pumping, making my breathing pick up. It’s up to me. No one is coming to save me. I refuse to let Nate kill me and feed me to the animals. Who knows how long he’ll drag this on? He’s already proven that he’s going to torture me for the hell of it. Have his fun like I’m a toy.
And Colt? He’s not going to be out looking for me. He thinks I’m mad at him. Hate him. He won’t send out a search party when I don’t come home tonight.
“They humiliated me,” Nate says to himself. “Fuck them!” Then lets out a scream, leaning over and shoving everything off the table and onto the floor. “Son of a bitch!”