Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7625 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
But as I gazed around the half-lit basement, it proved to be smart to look.
Because there was Bear.
Strung up from a support beam in the ceiling, his massive arms pulled tight from the pressure of holding up almost all of his weight, since his feet were dangling.
His bare feet.
Bare, bloodied feet.
My stomach tensed as my gaze moved upward, checking him over as best I could in the poor light with the filthy window obstructing my view.
Still, I could see it.
The way his shirt was stuck to his wide, sturdy body. Sweat, on the back. Blood, on the front.
My gaze shot upward to his face, seeing it bloodied, bruised, and twisted up in pain.
Pain.
Bear.
My Bear.
Who I’d once seen take a metal bat swing to the midsection without a wince.
That Bear was in pain.
My gaze moved away from him and around the darkened space.
And there they were.
Three more guys.
Standing around.
Drinking.
Looking at a table full of instruments they were going to use on the man who meant more to me than I ever could have anticipated.
All of that pesky fear and uncertainly slipped away, replaced with something a hell of a lot more useful.
Rage.
It was a fire that sparked in my belly and flickered into a burning inferno that overtook me completely.
“I’m coming, babe,” I whispered as though he might hear me, then got back onto my feet, brushing off the dirt, and grabbing some of the furniture stacked around, making myself a makeshift ladder, then hauling myself up to ease open one of the windows to the back room.
I paused, waiting to see if someone came looking, if there was someone inside.
When there was nothing, I pulled myself inside.
I didn’t bother to pull my skirt back down or fix the way my tits were all but spilling out of my top.
Instead, I reached up, mussing my hair like crazy, then smudging my lipstick and eyeshadow.
Because anger had cleared my mind.
I knew what part to play now.
The drunken clubwhore who passed out in the back room and woke up a little delirious and easy to manipulate into something.
I knew these kinds of guys far too well.
One of them would take advantage.
That was what they did.
I did my best wasted stumble as I moved out of the room and into the common area.
“What do we have here?” the president asked as the clubwhore continued to start a fire in his pants. Judging by the pained look in his eyes and the bored, annoyed look in hers.
“Where’d he go?” I slurred as I reached up, mussing my hair further and nearly toppling off my heels, giving it a good show.
No threat here. Just a silly, drunken girl you can easily hold down and force yourself upon. No weapons strapped to my body, no sir.
“Think you must be looking for me,” the president said as he stood so suddenly that the woman literally toppled off his lap and slammed to the floor with a yelp. “You can go. Fucking useless slut,” he said, waving a hand toward the woman whose face went red as she rubbed her ass when she got to her feet.
She didn’t fight, didn’t argue, just grabbed her bag and headed out, head lowered.
She had no idea that he was doing her a favor.
Because no one in this goddamned clubhouse was going to live through the night except for Bear and me.
“Who… you?” I said, heavy lids slow blinking at him as he moved toward me.
He was a big man.
Not in the strong, sturdy way that Bear was, a man who had legs of tree trunks and arms strong enough to fight off all my demons, and just the tiniest bit of squish in the tummy that made him extra fun to snuggle.
No, this president was pot-bellied from beer and shiny from whatever oily crap that made up his diet. His brown hair was greasy and pushed away from his face that was just too mismatched to really work together. Beady eyes, big nose, thin lips, and uneven facial hair.
“Right now, I’m the man who is gonna take you in the back room and fuck you ‘till you’re screaming,” he said as he grabbed me, his arm going around my side, and I worried we were so close that he might feel the bulge of my knife or reach into my bag that was still slung over my shoulder.
It seemed like there was finally some life in his boxers, though, because he was oblivious to anything but getting to fuck the shiny, new thing.
I let him lead me back to the room I’d just abandoned, a space that had a small cot against one wall, a TV on the other, and a dresser under the windows that had made it easy to climb inside without falling and making a racket.
Not that anyone could have heard, what with the music still blasting through the speakers in the common area. Likely put on to drown out the sounds of Bear’s screaming.