Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Instead of finally giving me what I want, though, his hand starts working down below. My eyes go wide and I gasp at his resumed pumping. My gasp becomes a moan when he speeds up, when his thumb becomes relentless on my clit. I want to stop him. I want to say no, but it feels so good. It feels like I’m ready to come apart, and he only just restarted. My thighs are back to shaking, and the pressure in my lower belly increases so much that I don’t know how it’ll ever come back down. I don’t know how to stop dancing on his fingers, writhing on his hand like he said. I don’t know how to stop myself from coming.
So I do. I come.
Within probably ten seconds of him playing with me like this. Of him fingering me and watching me so intensely, like he’s memorizing my face. All through this, I do notice that he obeyed my rule. He didn’t bust through my cherry like he wanted to because I didn’t want him to do that, not without kissing me first. Because somehow, it felt important, vital, that we kiss in this moment, before anything else. Panting, I try to focus on him. “Why didn’t you…” Kiss me.
I’m too wrung out to finish my sentence, but he answers me anyway, his words cryptic and his features doused in an unknown expression. “’Cause for the first time in my life, I don’t wanna act like a monster.”
I frown in confusion. “What…”
My words trail off when I feel a pinprick on the side of my neck. A sting that I know I’ve felt before. But it takes me a few seconds to realize when and where. And those few seconds make all the difference. Because by the time I realize he’s stuck a needle into my neck and drugged me again, like he did at the parking lot all those weeks ago, I’m already falling into darkness.
PART II
THE CAPTURE
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I WAKE UP with a start.
Unlike last time, though, I don’t have to gather myself or remind myself of what happened. I also don’t have to wiggle my body or twist my hands to take stock of things. I know I’ve been taken—again—and I know that I’m tied up. The only difference is the where and how. Instead of a tree, I’m tied to a metal chair, my arms flung back and my wrists roped. And instead of being in the woods, I’m in a warehouse of some sort. A garage, maybe. Given the concrete floors and junkyard cars lining the walls on both sides.
And I’m gagged.
I wasn’t last time and this detail, more than any other, scares me the most. It makes me pant and wheeze, and in the silence, my own sounds are foreign. The air is dusty and smells like gas. There are glass windows high up but the light is dim, telling me it’s just past dawn. I’m sitting in the middle of this space, as if I’m supposed to be the main attraction of whatever fucked-up game this is. It’s too dark to see anything behind me, and there’s a roll-up metal door in front of me. It’s partially pulled down, but it’s open enough that I can see beyond it, and this may not be the woods, but I’m still in the middle of nowhere. There’s nothing but empty dirt ground for as far as my eyes can see, and not a single tree or man-made structure in sight.
God, what is this place? What am I doing here? Why would he do this to me again? After everything, why would he…
Just then I hear the sound of crunching gravel and an approaching vehicle. With wide eyes and shallow breaths, I see a car pull up. It’s shiny and black, an SUV, the kind that my father drives. Maybe this is my dad’s doing. Maybe he’s playing some sick twisted game with me. Trying to teach me a lesson, scare me for his own unknown reasons, but then the doors on both sides open and I stop wondering about hypothetical scenarios and focus on the moment.
Two men step out, both similarly dressed: a Western-style denim shirt and washed-out jeans along with a Stetson. They’re both burly and tall, muscular. My first thought is, I’ll never be able to take them both, if it comes to that. Even if I fight them to the best of my ability, they’ll still overpower me. As scary as that is, what scares me the most is the masks they have on. Not the kind that I’m used to seeing, that I’m only now realizing had become so familiar that it was a source of comfort. No, these are ski masks. They cover everything except their eyes. Eyes that land on me as soon as they slam the doors shut. I flinch at the banging sound and my heart pounds, hurtles and thrashes in my chest as I also realize they’ve both got guns. I can see the butts peeking out from their belts, and I start struggling against my bonds.