Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
The drive felt impossibly long, but it was likely only fifteen minutes before we were pulling up to an apartment building beside what looked to be a closed down old bar.
“Where are you going?” Marcus asked when he went toward the apartment building, but my instincts had me going toward the abandoned bar instead.
No one to see.
To hear.
To know what he wanted to do to Scarlet.
“Go and check the apartment,” I invited. “I’m going in here,” I said, stepping in front of the door.
Reaching out, I carefully turned the knob, but it didn’t budge.
Taking a deep breath, I took a step back, then rammed my full weight against the door, feeling it crack and swing forward, letting me into the dark space.
I had to go get my girl.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Scarlet
Consciousness came slowly, my mind sticky as molasses, making each thought struggle to fully materialize.
There was a headache hammering behind my eyes, and my body felt heavy, immovable.
I’d never had a hangover so intense before.
But that was because…
My eyes shot open as panic swelled in my system.
I hadn’t been drinking.
Well, two mimosas.
It wasn’t the liquor.
It was whatever had been stabbed into my skin; it was the cold liquid that brought with it almost instant unconsciousness.
The last memory I had was lying in the trunk, staring up at the face of a man who I’d been forced to endure the presence of in my home for several weeks before, suddenly, he was gone.
I didn’t even know what I’d done to scare his creepy ass off, but I’d been so relieved when he was gone.
It was really ridiculous to have to close and lock all my doors in my own damn apartment to get some privacy. Or to just be sitting on the couch, and know someone is taking pictures of you without asking.
But I’d honestly never given Gene a single thought again after he was gone. Within three days, I had a new babysitter. One who was less creepy, if a lot more anal and annoying about cleanliness considering it wasn’t his home, technically. So Gene’s memory just… disappeared.
He definitely never called me My dove or anything like that when he’d been with me, or I would have known in an instant that it was him when the comments and letters started.
One thing did make sense, though.
The pink roses.
My father had sent me a bouquet when Gene had been staying with me. And I guess he assumed that was my thing.
Had I maybe given that situation two moments of thought, I would have come to that conclusion.
It was too late now.
I tried to move my head to get a better look around. The movement made my cheek grate against a dirty floor. Undoing all that work at the spa. Not that my facial was really a big concern right now. Not with the way my shoulders were aching.
Thanks to Julian, I knew that sensation in a heartbeat.
Even before I realized my wrists were bound.
I hated Gene at that moment for taking something that had become kind of sacred to me and turning it into something ugly.
Wherever I was, it was quiet, filthy, and freezing.
My robe had split down the chest, the sash holding on for dear life, but losing the battle. One whole leg was now exposed, and I was suddenly thankful for the fact that I’d chosen actual full-cheek panties instead of my usual thong.
Though I was without a bra, and if I shifted too much, my tits were going to be on display, with no way for me to cover them up again.
I forced myself to take slow, deep breaths, trying to tamp down the anxiety that was slithering up my chest and closing around my throat, constricting tighter by the second.
It was going to be okay.
I was someone who would be missed.
Especially because the girls would be waiting for me.
And Julian would be waiting for me to be done.
Julian.
I had to focus on him.
Julian, with years of active military service. A man who knew how to fight and to shoot and to track down people he needed to find.
And those were just people.
I was his girl.
He’d move heaven and Earth to find me.
I believed that down to my bones.
I just had to… stay calm. Stay sharp. Try to… distract Gene.
Because, let’s face it, men didn’t drug and kidnap women to have them over for a spot of tea and talk about their favorite TV shows.
Men drugged and kidnapped women to fulfill their sick fantasies.
I was not going to let that happen.
So I had to… I don’t know… act like I was shocked that he was binding me. Maybe even insulted. Act like I had no idea it was him who had been sending me gifts, that I would have been open to it had I known.
Stroke his ego.
Let him think that I could actually be interested.