Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
By the way he moves, I wonder if they aren’t cracked. He doesn’t say a word, he just does his best to stare at Eyeball, and despite his injuries—or maybe because of them—his face is the perfect mixture of hate and anger.
“Just get on with it.”
“You can save my sister. I’ll bring her out here and I’ll give her the freedom the bitch has been begging me for and all you have to do is—”
“Fuck her,” he screams. “Do you think I don’t know how the cops found my cut and knife at the scene? Ayita told me she’d seen Oliva snooping around my old room at the club. If I see the conniving cunt again, I’ll put a bullet through her head—just like I plan to do to you someday!”
Before Bear died, I knew I could never go back to Blade. I did love Blade, but my heart has always belonged to Bear. No matter how much I tried to fight it. It always had. I fell in love with him before I understood what love was, and my heart never completely let him go. I thought for a while I could be happy with Blade—but then, I didn’t really know him. He and Bear had too many secrets. Secrets Bear should’ve made me aware of. In a way, everyone I’ve loved or who should have loved me, has let me down. I’m alone and that’s how I’ll always be. As I listen to Blade scream, that feeling solidifies inside of me. I have no one but myself. There’s a calm that overtakes me with that realization. If I had held out any hope that I would live my life and try to find love with Blade, like Bear asked me to do, here is positive proof that will never happen. Blade hates me as much—if not more—than he does Douglas.
I hear Douglas practically cackle right before he orders Fitch to bring me out. “Come see your ex-lover, Olivia. He’s dying to see you again,” he demands.
“Remember, bitch. You pull this off, or you end up just like Bear. Plus, your father will die. Give Eyeball what he wants, he can live,” Fitch—my brother's newest asshole follower—mutters, his putrid breath brushing against my ear.
“And I get my freedom,” I respond, needing him to confirm it, even if I have my doubts that Douglas will ever keep his word.
“You and that bastard you’re trying to protect get your freedom, but only if you do what he wants now. Got it?”
Nodding, I feel cold all the way to my soul, but I don’t argue. I just want this over. There’s a slim chance I’ll get my freedom, but I do know that for whatever reason, Douglas wants to keep my father alive. I have no idea what it is, but he’d keep me alive to take care of Dad—he’s done it before. Douglas has been bitching for the last two and a half years how expensive it is to keep Dad in that home and how nosy they’re getting. It’s my only hope in hell that I might get free, so I cling to it.
I walk in front of Fitch directly to my brother—which is not easy. The bastard has me dressed up like I’m going to a fucking nightclub instead of a woman who has spent the last couple of years of her life in a five-by-five cell wearing nothing but rags. Still, I make it beside the throne-like chair that Douglas is sitting on—barely keeping the disdain out of my features. We’re in the middle of a deserted old farm that is nothing but weeds, a collapsing house and barn, and rusted machinery. Yet, for some reason, Douglas has a fucking throne chair. I lean down to kiss his cheek—as I was instructed to do earlier. I bring my lips to his ear. “You’re a fucking moron,” I whisper. I feel his muscles tighten against me. I know I’m going to pay for that remark later, but it’s worth it. Sure, I was promised my freedom and the chance to be with my father if I went through with this stupidity, but I have my doubts he’ll deliver. Mostly, I’m doing this because if I didn’t, Douglas would kill my dad. I definitely believe he’ll do that. I should feel guilty, but Blade is nothing to me anymore. It’s good he hates me. I don’t hate him, but I want nothing to do with him. That man had me in his bed and didn’t bother to tell me who he really was. If he had, I would have confessed who my brother was. Maybe then things would be different. I’m not sure. What I do know is that he lied to me even when he had several chances to tell me the truth. There are other reasons, but those are definitely the ones that keep swirling in my head.