Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Garrett shakes his hand while he watches the kid arrange an unconscious Eve on the table. “Still as stubborn as ever, I see,” he says, referring to his daughter.
Evan squares his shoulders as if offended, and I get a sickening feeling. “It takes time, sir, but I assure you, she will submit.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” Garrett crosses his arms over his chest.
Evan turns and walks over to the counter while the kid prepares Eve. Arms out to her sides and strapped down to the table, palms up. A thick belt around her chest, stomach, and upper thighs, along with her ankles.
All I can think is at least her legs are closed. They’re not going to rape her. But if not that, then what? Why did Evan want her in this room to begin with, and why is her father here? He tossed her away like trash. Why does he care about her progress?
Everett groans in pain as she starts to come around, arching her neck.
I run a hand through my hair. Goddammit, Eve. At least she’s alive. I just keep reminding myself that they don’t want her dead.
Evan starts opening and slamming cabinets, and my stomach knots. He’s changing his plan. Now he’s going to prove a point to Garrett at Eve’s expense.
“Here.” Evan wads up what looks like black fabric that has a belt connected to it. “Put this on her,” he orders the kid.
The Lord-in-training starts to softly push Eve’s hair off her bruised and bloody face.
“Give me that,” Garrett snaps, yanking what I now see is a hood from the kid’s hands. He shoves it over Eve’s head and face, not caring about being gentle as he stretches it. The fabric is tight, showing off the hollowness in her eye sockets, the curve of her nose, her sunken-in cheekbones, and her chin before he pulls it down to cover her neck. It has a thick belt that Garrett pulls tight and buckles in the front.
Eve moves once more. “Wh-at?” The only part of her face that can be seen is her mouth. She licks her busted lips, smearing the blood across them.
“This as well.” Evan tosses something else to Garrett.
He snatches it midair and then grips Eve’s cheeks painfully, making a cry ring out in the quiet room. He shoves the black rubber into her mouth. It resembles a mouthpiece with a hole in the center for her to breathe out of. He pushes her head up, fastens it, and then drops it to the metal table.
She can no longer see or speak. It’s probably also hard for her to hear. She’s helpless. At their mercy.
Her hands fist, and she starts to fight the restraints. She’s coming around now, and I shift in my seat. “Hold on, angel,” I whisper to my phone. Whatever it is, it can’t last forever. She’s in bed right behind me. This isn’t the end for her.
Bill finds her and pulls her out of this hell. He saves her.
Evan pushes a tray over to her side and starts an IV in the crook of her arm, then hangs a banana bag on a hook.
“What the fuck is that for?” Garrett demands.
“Epinephrine,” Evan answers, and Garrett arches a brow in question. “Adrenaline. There are higher risks when administering it this way, but…”
“Give me a syringe and I’ll stab her in the heart with it,” Garrett interrupts him.
Evan looks nervous for a second. “A shot of adrenaline straight to the heart will only last maybe twenty minutes before she passes out. I’m diluting it some and giving her less this way, but it will last longer.”
“Fuck,” I growl, shifting in the seat again.
“Hmm.” Garrett nods his approval.
Evan grabs a piece of sandpaper and walks over to Eve. He starts to rub it over her right hip. She comes alive, thrashing on the table as much as she can. Mumbled cries and screams fill the room, and spit flies from the hole in the mouthpiece.
Evan scrubs and scrubs until he’s rubbed the area raw. When it starts bleeding, he’s satisfied and tosses it to the floor, then picks up a knife.
I put my free hand over my mouth when he starts to cut three lines vertically over her hip. Blood pours down her side and onto the table.
She shakes uncontrollably, and her muscles flex.
“What is this for?” Garrett asks, looking over the marks on her skin.
“This is her number. It’s a reminder of where she once was and where she can always be sent back to,” Evan answers. He then unscrews a lid to a white bottle that he grabbed from underneath the cabinet and pours it over her bloody skin.
She arches her back and neck, screaming through the mouthpiece.
“What was that?” Garrett demands.
“Sulfuric acid,” Evan answers, and I tense.
“Won’t that burn her?” Garrett questions. “She’ll be hard to sell if she’s got burn marks all over her skin. You’ve already rubbed it raw,” he growls.