Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I’m immensely thankful for Dawson right now. I don’t know what the two of us are, but his desire for me has saved me from a life with Malik I didn’t want a part in. But now I’m here, and this doesn’t look good either.
“Henry knew the terms, and he let this happen, anyway,” Malik continues, ranting now as he paces back and forth. “Dawson was supposed to watch over you to make sure you stayed pure for me.”
“Dawson?” I ask, feeling any relief I had about what happened vanish in an instant.
Malik stops and looks at me with glee in his eyes when he sees the heartbreak I’m feeling. “Yes. Dawson knew all about the deal. He was supposed to protect you and keep an eye on you, so you would stay out of trouble. I guess he didn’t do a good enough job.”
Nobody’s laid a hand on me, but I feel like the wind has been knocked out of me. Dawson knew about this. He let me tell him about myself even though he knew what was going to happen to me. Hell, Dawson fucked me, and he knew what was at stake. Why the hell would he do that if he knew Malik wanted a virgin?
I’m heartbroken, and I wish I could just break down and cry right here and now, but I can’t. If I had any hope that Dawson was going to come here and save me, it’s gone now. He knew I was being offered up to Malik on a silver platter, and that’s probably why he wanted me to work from home today.
Why didn’t Dawson just encourage me to go out with Malik? Why did he freak out when he thought I was flirting with Malik? The more I think about it, the more questions I have, and I can’t make sense of the situation.
Malik stops pacing and moves closer, putting both of his hands on the armrests beside me, his face only inches from mine. “Now that you understand, tell me who took what belonged to me.”
I could tell him that Dawson did it. After keeping the secret from me, lying to me, he deserves to be exposed. It’s the only revenge I could possibly take in the position I’m in. But at the same time, I can’t help but wonder if there’s something more to this. I don’t fully understand Dawson’s motives, and I can’t expose him. Not right now.
I just shake my head and let him know I’m not speaking. He sighs and drops his head when he shakes it. He backs away and nods to the guards, who both move to stand in front of me.
“I offered you an easy way,” Malik says with a disappointed sigh. “If you’re not going to talk to me willingly, I’m going to make you.”
Before I know it, a fist slams against my face, and a sharp ache forms in my jawbone. I look at the guards and see the hunger in their eyes. They want this just as much as Malik does.
Another hand crashes into my already aching shoulder, and I let out a scream. Malik just takes a seat on the corner of the bed and watches with a satisfied smile as the guards smack me, punch me, and pull my hair. I’m knocked to the ground and kicked a few times while all of them pepper me with questions about who defiled me. They ask me disgusting questions about everything I’ve done, attempting to invade my privacy as they threaten to kill me and beat me within an inch of my life.
By the time my chair is lifted back up and the guards step away with blood on their hands, every inch of me is aching. My hair is matted to my face, and I can’t help the quiet sobs that escape my throat.
“Dawson,” I whisper under my breath, catching Malik’s attention. He moves closer to urge me to say it again, and I do. “It was Dawson.”
I hate that I gave in and confessed, but I couldn’t take it anymore. The three of them would kill me. I could see it in their eyes when they brought their hands down on me. They would kill me, and they would take pleasure in it.
“He’s going to die,” Malik says. He looks me up and down, assessing the damage he and his guards have done. “I might kill you too. You’re already close enough to the edge. But then again, you could still make me a profit.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head vehemently. By how he’s looking at me, I don’t need to ask what he means. I know exactly where this is going.
“Your face might be bloody and bruised, but nobody will be paying for that,” Malik says with a laugh, as if it is the funniest joke he’s ever told. When he settles down, he turns to the guards and points to me. “Get her ready for the brothel.”