Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
I fight and squirm when he crowds me against the steel container before stuffing his hand between my legs. I’m wearing sweatpants so his access isn’t as easy as it would have been with a nightie, but within seconds, he’s cupping my sex and attempting to strum my clit with his thumb.
“Get off.” My voice is weak and pathetic, yet somehow, someone hears me.
Artyom is yanked off me with brutal force. The pull of my savior is so powerful, Artyom skids across the rusty metal floor before crashing into a container across from the one he had me pinned to.
Ghost’s wild eyes dart between Artyom and me for several terrifying seconds before they eventually lower to the big blood-looking blob smeared from my midsection to the top of my thighs.
“You…”
He doesn’t say more. He simply pounces at Artyom with his fists blazing instead of his guns. He pounds into him relentlessly, his knuckles bloody and split in less than thirty seconds.
He doesn’t stop once Artyom’s face caves in, though. He beats into him with everything he has, and then his focus shifts to me.
Blood drips off his hands when he rises from his crouched position. It splotches on his now-stained shoes and forces me to make my second mistake of the night.
I run into my captive’s arms instead of away from them.
Ghost is stunned, but he soon takes it in stride. He pulls me in close to his blood-dotted chest, his hold so firm my feet lift from the ground. “Shh… маленький ягненок.”
When he spins to face the footsteps creeping up behind us, I burrow my head into his pecs. Artyom is no longer recognizable. He doesn’t have a face.
“What the…” Alek swallows his curse word before breathing it out slowly. “Fuck.”
His focus must shift to me because Ghost’s grip tightens before he demands Alek take care of Artyom. “And don’t give him a bag. That fucker doesn’t deserve a proper burial.”
Alek doesn’t strain while flopping Artyom onto his shoulder and heading for the stern of the ship. He walks as effortlessly as Ghost does when he makes his way back to our room.
“It’s soup,” I murmur when he places me on my feet in the bathroom. “I was… I thought…” I must be in shock because I can’t form sentences. “I thought he was you.” Out of all the concerns I could express, I go with my hurt of believing he was with another woman. “They were in your office. I thought… I wanted to make sure you ate—”
I stop blubbering when he squashes his index finger to my lip. The saltiness it rubs into my mouth alerts me to the fact I’m crying. I shouldn’t be so stunned. I’ve been through many horrid things in the last eight years, but tonight’s event truly scared me. I’ve felt safe the past few days, but Artyom stripped that away in less than a nanosecond.
Ghost carries me into the perfectly tempered shower, still dressed. He steps us back until the water careens down my tear-stained face and flows over my T-shirt. I’m drenched from head to toe in under a second and free to let my tears escape without fear.
Once my fright is replaced with determination, Ghost takes a step back. “Up.” He grips the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head before his snapped command leaves his mouth. I follow, forever willing to obey but also wanting to. The way he protected me is tainting my fear, messing it up so ruefully, I’m seeing it as endearing.
Once he dumps my shirt on the floor, his focus shifts to my sweatpants. He pulls them down, growling when he notices the tomato soup soaked through to my underwear.
“It’s just soup,” I remind him when his anger deprives the bathroom of sufficient oxygen to maintain life. It is muggy and steamy, and another thing I can’t quite explain.
“He shouldn’t have touched you.” Ghost words are so low I don’t believe they are for me.
However, I still answer them. “He didn’t…” His eyes lift to mine when I mutter, “Thanks to you.”
His eyes are so tormented. Before I can consider the repercussions of my actions, I raise my hand to his face—the scarred side.
Ghost snatches up my wrist before my fingertips can get close to the mottled skin, and although his grip is firm, it has nothing on the pain in his eyes when he realizes the scarred side of his face is un-shadowed.
He is as exposed as me.
“Shower then bed, маленький ягненок.” My shoulders slump when he exits the shower, taking my dirty clothes with him, but they don’t hang low for long when he adds, “I’ll have some food brought here. We will eat together.”
15
GHOST
As Vera enters my room with the tray of food I ordered for Katie, I slant my head, squashing my satellite phone in closer to my ear before growling down the line, “You’re watching her as closely as me, so how the fuck did you miss what Artyom did? He didn’t penetrate her.”