Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He takes a slow step back. “Don’t you fucking dare compare me to that fucking bastard!” He shouts, pointing at me. He clenches and releases his fists, attempting to rein in his temper. “I didn’t fucking touch you! And I would never rape a woman. Ever.” His breathing is audible, his chest heaving.
My cold numbness is giving way to a very real, very feral anger. “No, you’re worse, because you ordered someone else to hurt me, and then left me!” I snap. “If you wanted me tortured, you should have at least had the balls to do it yourself. You’re a fucking coward and you’re weak.”
He takes a predatory step toward me, glaring at me. He grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me back against the wall. Panic grips me as I feel his fingers creep around my throat. I flinch as he brushes against my stitches. His breathing is ragged, his hand shaking. He squeezes his eyes shut, his fingers twitching against my neck. I turn my face away from him and close my eyes, waiting for the inevitable. There’s a tense beat of silence before he shoves himself away from me.
“Fuck!” he growls as he grabs the closest thing to him which is the picture of his mother and sister, and hurls it across the room. Glass scatters across the floor. Taking his arm, he swipes at everything on the dresser, sending it crashing to the floor. “Fuck!” He freezes and clasps his hands behind his head, breathing heavily. He hangs his head forward and drops his hands, slowly moving to the broken picture, and he picks it up, removing the remaining glass.
He places the frame back on the dresser and leaves the room. For the first time since I’ve gotten here, I am alone and there’s an open door in front of me, but there’s no point in running. I walk to the door and softly close it.
Sometime later there’s a soft knock at the door, followed by the creak of it opening. I’m lying on my side, staring at the wall.
“Ria?” Caleb says.
I feel the mattress dip slightly as he sits on the far side of it.
“I need to check your stitches.” This is the third time in two days that he’s been in here to check on my stitches. They don’t need checking. I’m a doctor, for Christ’s sake. I don’t need a trainee paramedic telling me whether or not I’m okay. If it weren’t for him and his brother, I wouldn’t need checking on.
“They’re fine,” I say. I have to hand it to him, he did a good job of stitching my throat. It will scar though, and so will my chest and stomach. A permanent reminder of this nightmare.
He sighs. “Ria…”
“I’m a doctor. I’m fine.”
“Damn it, will you please talk to me.”
I sigh and roll over, sitting up against the headboard. I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.
“Talk and then leave,” I snap.
He drops his head forward into his hands. “I’m so sorry. You know I didn’t want to do it.” He’s already said this, but I’ve refused to acknowledge him, and so he keeps coming back.
“You did, though, Caleb,” I say blankly.
“Please, you know I would never…”
“Cowards hide behind excuses. A weak man blames his actions on others. You let it happen, and if you believed it was wrong, then you should have stood up for what you believed was right.”
His eyes meet mine, begging me to hear him, to understand, but I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you could bind a girl and watch a man tear her clothes off and let her almost freeze to death, without acting against it.
“Ria,” he whispers.
“No!” I snap out. “You disgust me as much as your brother.” He recoils as if I had physically slapped him. “Please, just leave.”
He looks up at me like a puppy that’s just been kicked. My heart gives a little squeeze because I’ve lost the only friend I had in this place, and his betrayal hurts worse than any physical pain I’ve endured.
He sighs heavily. “You have to come with me.”
“Where?”
His eyes lock with mine. “Jude wants you. He has something for you. Something that might make you feel better.”
I glare at him. “Tell your fucking brother that this can’t be fixed with shallow gifts.”
“Trust me, Ria, I think you’ll want this.”
“I don’t trust you, or him.”
“Please,” he begs.
Call it curiosity, or maybe I’m just bored shitless of looking at these four walls, but I get up and follow him out of the room. We don’t speak on the way down the stairs. I think Caleb finally realises that no amount of apologising will ever make this okay.
I haven’t been able to sleep, hell, I’m barely able to shut my eyes without seeing her all bloodied and split open. It’s taken me three days to calm down enough and rationalize how to handle this, because at first all I wanted to do was kill Bob, but that would do nothing but grant me a fleeting moment of satisfaction.