Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
But then Soren places a hand on my shoulder and reminds me that I’m being followed by an almost literal giant who won’t ever let me escape his grasp.
“Let’s go,” he says with his gruff voice, and we go toward a fence on the left side of the house. A small opening is right in front of us with only two guards in front of it. There must be cameras watching this gate as well. But why are we going in this direction when there’s a front gate too?
As I glance behind me, the other women pour out of the house along with the guards accompanying them to the garage, and my heart does a little jump. They’re leaving too, but I’m the only one being separated. Why?
“Where are they being taken?” I ask Soren.
He glances at the women over his shoulder and then returns his attention toward the fence up ahead.
“Somewhere else,” he replies briskly.
“Where? And why am I being singled out?”
“ENOUGH!” He’s spun on his heels so quickly that I stop breathing as he stares into my soul, his muscles practically bursting out of his clothes.
I don’t move an inch until the rage disappears from his face, and he’s turned back around again. Asking too many questions apparently gets under his skin. I’ll make a mental note of that. You never know when that kind of information comes in handy.
Soren marches up to the fence and barks at the guards standing in front of it. “Open it.”
The guards look confused. “But Tobias told us—”
“Eli’s orders,” Soren interrupts, glaring at them with so much tenacity that one of them begins to sweat.
The other one tugs at his collar and quickly unlocks the door. “Yes, sir.”
Soren barges through without a second thought, and I traipse past the guards without throwing them a single glance, afraid they might hoist me back inside and tell me I need to stay here. But then the moment passes as I step outside the gates and out of the prison they tried to cage me in. I can smell the freedom, taste it on my lips. The scent of trees and living grass entering my nostrils fills me with excitement … and also something else.
Dread.
Dread for what’s to come beyond these grounds.
Because I still don’t know where we’re headed and whether I’ll manage to ever get out of this man’s grasp.
I look around at all the beautiful greenery here, wondering where the hell we even are. The only road is the one at the front gate, but we’re not going in that direction, so I have no clue what his plan is. Does he intend to just take me into the forest and leave me there? Or is this some kind of trap I’ve just fallen straight into? What if this is all just some elaborate game to make me confess my sins like they do with the other girls?
I shudder at the thought of all the pain this man could inflict … or worse, the ways he could use his body to make me yield. His muscles could overpower a woman within a second, and I’d be useless to fight him off. Even looking at him now makes me hyper-aware of the fact that he could turn around and snatch me up at any moment to do whatever he pleases with me. The mere thought makes me clench my thighs.
God, I don’t even know why I’m thinking about this.
I won’t know what his plans are until we’re there, and even then, I doubt he’ll tell me exactly what he’s planning until it’s too late for me to run. He’s got me right where he wants me—alone, afraid, and confused—and I don’t like it one bit. It reminds me too much of the place where I used to be.
I shiver and close my eyes for a second, pushing the memories out.
I’m in the here and now, stuck in yet another prison of another man’s making, and I need to find a way out.
I should be running, fighting, kicking, screaming. Even if I don’t escape, maybe the other women will hear me, and I can inspire them to do the same.
But the fear of being captured immobilizes me to the point that it covers my skin in a sheen of sweat and makes the bile rise to my throat. I can’t. I fucking don’t even have it in me to try, and I hate it.
Maybe I am a wimp. Maybe I’m not the girl I thought I was.
But I have to try.
I have to.
My feet stop moving.
I stay put in the grass, completely frozen against the soil as I stare down at my feet that refuse to listen to this man’s commands when he tells me to follow.
Because I know I am outside of the house. I know I’m free to go.