Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I wasn’t even feeling much, thanks to the layers I had on. Bulky, wide-leg jeans, a sweater under my bulky, fluffy jacket.
Something about those layers helped give me perspective, helped me not let the panic overwhelm me.
My abductor’s hand slid across my face, seeming to delight in slowly removing it, like he was just itching to hear me suck in a breath to scream and beg.
He would be disappointed.
I waited until the tips of his fingers were almost off of my lips before I pulled open my mouth, turned slightly, and bit down with everything in me.
His howl was masked by the music.
But I heard it.
You’re going to be the one screaming, asshole.
Taking advantage of his surprise and pain, I twisted away, putting the wall of the van to my back, facing my attacker head-on.
“Bitch,” he said, and I think I was reading his lips more than hearing him. “You’re going to pay for that,” he said.
He yanked back his arm.
But I was watching.
So I ducked before he could strike, the backs of his knuckles colliding with the unyielding wall, making pain shoot across his knuckles.
A growling sound moved through him as I inched away, mind on getting around this van in a half circle, reaching for the door handle, sliding the door open, and running away.
Maybe slamming my abductor’s hand in the door in the process.
My stomach clenched as my shoe met the edge of the mattress, everything in me screaming to move in the other direction, to get the hell away from the makeshift bed.
But the other direction would put me in the reach of the other man.
While experience told me that my abductor wouldn’t let him actually take advantage of me, that in some sick way, he believed I did belong just to him, to be abused strictly by his hands.
But the driver would happily grab me, hold me down for the abductor. He would watch, egg him on, even pleasure himself.
I knew.
I’d experienced it all before.
And I refused to do so again.
So I moved further onto the mattress as my abductor charged toward me again, hands outstretched, trying to grab me, wanting to drag me down onto the mattress.
Fighting against my instinct to duck right away, I waited until he was too close to change his movement, then lowered down under his arm, twisting around, my footing awkward and unsteady against the mattress as it depressed under each step.
My wrist was grabbed, and the instinct to simply yank it back only made pain shoot through my shoulder.
No.
I couldn’t use my instincts.
I had to use my training.
My abductor yanked me forward toward him, the only thing keeping me from colliding with his chest being the way the mattress was swallowing my feet.
He had my left wrist, leaving me with my dominant hand to work with.
So I struck out, aiming high, catching him across the throat.
The shock of losing his breath, the strangling sensation that was overtaking him, had him releasing my wrist, letting me stumble back just out of reach.
But as I took another step back, something on the floor caught my foot, making me stumble, then start to fall, my stomach bottoming out as I crashed to the ground.
The metal collided with my ass, painful enough to steal my breath for a moment.
That was the least of my concerns as my attacker made sick, wet sounds while he tried to breathe but he was still coming for me.
Like he knew I was close to getting away. That I was so, so close to the door.
“Get her, Marshall,” the driver said.
Marshall.
After all of this time, I finally had a name.
I must have been distracted by that information, though. Just for a second. But that was all he needed.
He bent before I could anticipate his actions, grabbing both of my ankles, and pulling hard enough to force me to fall flat.
Only my reflexes had me tucking my chin to my chest to keep my skull from whacking into the cold, hard floor.
I yanked a foot free, using it to strike out.
His thigh, his knee.
Distracting him enough to drop my other leg, giving me another way to strike out.
My hands went around, feeling for anything on the floor.
It wasn’t long until I felt something hard to my side, maybe what I’d tripped over initially.
I grabbed at it, feeling it cold and firm.
Marshall had managed to grab my legs, though, spreading them wide as he came down to his knees between.
Panic surged, and I fought it back, reminding myself that it was different this time.
I had on layers.
It would be a fight to get them off of me.
It was okay. I had time.
So I waited, knowing he was too far away to strike yet.
It wasn’t until he planted his arms on either side of my shoulders, caging me in, that I lifted the thing in my hand.