Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
The only love he has for me is the love of hurting me.
“I have to punish you, you know,” he says, and I whimper a bit at the thought. He’s already beaten me with his belt. Is he really going to stab me?
“Are you going to kill me?”
He chuckles, leaning in, his lips grazing my ear. “Not today.”
A chill runs up my spine, but then pure, white-hot pain erupts across my shoulder. I scream, unable to resist, and that only makes Peter madder. He holds my face down into the carpet and carves his knife into my back. Over and over, until thankfully, by the grace of God, I pass out.
I wake with a jerk, saved from the dream by my ringing phone.
My body is trembling, my heart is pounding in my chest, and sweat gathers at my brow. I look around, trying to calm my breathing and remind myself where I am. I’m safe. Peter can’t find me. He won’t. I’m fine.
I reach for my phone, and when I see a photo of Ciaran and me cuddling in his chair, my heart starts to slow. I answer once I feel my voice gets somewhat steady. “Hey!”
“Lou, guess what!”
My face breaks into a grin at the excitement in his voice. My heart sings for him, and I’m so thankful he called. I needed his voice. I need him, but we only have three more days until he’s home. Hopefully then, my dreams will stop, and maybe I’ll tell him about my trauma. I’m unsure, but his voice has me grinning from ear to ear. “What?”
“I got called up. I’m playing for the Assassins tonight!”
My giddiness disappears as sadness washes over me. I’m proud, oh-so proud, but I can’t stop the fear that this could be the end for us.
CHAPTER 42
Ciaran
I’ve thrown up four times.
“Prove yourself. This spot may be yours” was what Coach said to me when he called me this morning.
As I pace in the Nashville Assassins’ locker room, ignoring the emblem in the middle of the room because the guys believe if you step on it, we lose. Since I don’t need any bad juju, I circle it, trying to control my breathing. I feel eyes on me, but no one says anything. I’m sure they know I need to calm down. I need to get my head right so I can be an asset to this team.
Permanently.
After my eighth circle, I know I need to start putting on my gear. I head to my spot at the end, which, surprisingly, is next to Dimitri Titov, Louisa’s sister’s fiancé. Dimitri has been great since I arrived. He and Austen picked me up from the airport, took me to lunch, and made me feel like family. I hadn’t expected to feel so welcome, and their kindness eased a lot of my nerves. In the short time I’ve spent with Austen, I find that she is very different from Louisa. Austen is a bit more reserved and doesn’t look as if she’s up to trouble. I swear, nothing but mischief burns in my Lou’s eyes, and damn if I don’t want to be on the receiving end of her thoughts. There is never a moment when Lou and I aren’t touching, but with Austen and Dimitri, they only hold hands in front of me. If Lou were here, she’d be in my lap and I wouldn’t let go.
I miss her. Fuck, I miss her so damn much.
These last five days have been torture without her. I hate sleeping alone now, especially when I know how good it feels to be wrapped up in Louisa’s arms. I miss hearing that sigh I love so much and receiving her morning kisses. I miss finding her with her nose in a book or putting books away on that damn ladder I devoured her on. I miss breakfast with her and Eliza. I miss coming home to her after a game and not only feeling like I’m the best hockey player on earth, but then showing her how great of a hockey girlfriend she is.
God, I’m addicted to her.
I sit back in my locker and glance over at the black jersey with purple accents. The Assassin, holding its hockey stick, ready for battle, in front of the Batman building, has me breathless. I reach out, running my fingers over the logo then my number along the sleeve. I did it. I’m here, and I’m about to show the fuck out.
I swallow past the lump of emotion in my throat. I hear my mom and grandma in my head, telling me how proud they are of me. I remember the feel of the backslapping hug Cruz gave me when I told him. But most of all, I can still hear the emotion in Louisa’s voice when she told me how excited and proud of me she is. I told her first, and I’m glad I did. Her reaction is the one I hold close as I get ready.