Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“I haven’t hurt anything but these sissy bitches’ prides,” he snaps into the phone.
“Sissy bitch? I’m a fucking United States Marine,” Landon counters, gaining a look of disgust from the man.
I hate that I still don’t know his name. It’s not that I even asked, and he refused. I never opened my mouth and made the request.
“Hurry the fuck up. I’m tired of babysitting,” he says before ending the call.
“Who was that?” I demand, but he doesn’t look in my direction. “Are you selling us?”
He scoffs but doesn’t bother giving me any further attention.
I glare at the side of his head, my ass growing numb. I picture tearing him apart, gnashing at him with my teeth, but that’s as far as I can manage. He tied the ropes so tight around me, I can’t hardly shift my weight in the chair.
Chapter 6
Donavan
I set this place up before bringing her here. I’m glad I overly prepare because I didn’t account for the three assholes turned heroes. What I didn’t stuff into my backpack of depravity was a fucking blindfold and with the burn of her angry eyes on the side of my face, I’m regretting that slipup.
She’s like a five-pound chihuahua, vicious yet ineffective. She might be able to break skin, but ultimately she’d never be able to take down an enemy. I resist the urge to walk up to her and pinch her cheeks just to make her growl and rage a little more.
It shouldn’t turn me on. I shouldn’t have to keep my side profile to her so she can’t see what her anger does to my body. I don’t think the proclaimed Marine would keep cool if I walked up to her with my cock straining against the front of my jeans.
The urge to put an end to all three of the guys is strong, but that’s not why I’m here. Three dead young men would bring a little more heat than I need right now, but silence instead of them bitching is sounding better and better by the minute.
“There will be absolutely no fucking mercy,” the one with the biggest balls roars as he fights against the ropes.
I raise an eyebrow at him. He sees it as the challenge it is. I have no doubt the guy would be a worthy opponent. I’m sure the Marine Corps trained him to be deadly in a fight, but there’s a difference between the two of us. Where he’d probably pull back some, that pesky moral compass of his getting in the way, I silenced that voice years ago. I’d rip him to pieces and smile as I painted the walls with his blood. It gives me an edge over nearly anyone who thinks they have what it takes to stand against me.
“Do you have any idea who my father is?” the noisy one spits, his eyes narrowed as if he thinks it will make him look scarier.
Does the idiot not remember he’s tied to a fucking chair? That he hardly put up a fight while being tied up? I bet he’s regretting being chivalrous now.
I look out the window, keeping my back to the wall. Darkness shrouds everything, the day having slipped away while I waited for Nash to fucking get here. Shadows dance in front of the house, but there’s still no sign of the man who will deal with this problem.
I let my gaze skate toward Alani again but I don’t have to look at her to know she’s still looking at me. Her glare is a real thing on my skin, the heat of it warming me. My eyes trail down her body, and I fight against the worry that she may be cold. The house is deserted and without electricity. The few candles I lit just to avoid any surprises aren’t providing much light.
Her hands curl into fists against the arms of the dining room chair she’s sitting in, and I picture what all of that anger would feel like against my skin. How her little fists would attempt to fight me as I strip her naked. How her teeth would gnash at me, try to rip at my skin, only for her jaw to grow lax and hang open when she comes.
She shifts in her seat, squeezing her legs tighter, and I have to look away. The assuming light rumble of a chuckle that makes it to me from across the room makes me want to prove to her that she has no power over me, but I know better than to get close to her. Asserting my position, reminding her how dangerous I am, isn’t part of the plan, and going against the plan only leads to trouble. I don’t think Nash nor Ayla would be very impressed if I end up killing the woman.