Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Her heart jolted from calm to erratic as she took another step back. “Ash told me to eat.”
He grunted and opened the freezer.
She took several more steps back.
Paying her no mind, he pulled a frosted glass bottle out and set it on the counter beside two small glasses, then caught her by the sweater. “You stay.”
She didn’t want to stay. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. Just looking at him now, made her aware of how her throat still ached.
“Sit.” He pointed at one of the upholstered stools at the island.
Reluctantly, she slithered onto the seat and tugged her sweater dress down to her knees.
Hunter filled the two glasses with what she suspected was vodka. She kept her head down and studied him through her lashes.
He had to be ex-military. Ordinary men weren’t built like that. His face was a mixture of chiseled, hard angles and scars. He rolled his neck, deliberate and slow, each little pop breaking the suffocating silence.
“Drink.” He pushed a shot glass in front of her.
Marigold lifted the glass with a shaky hand and sipped. Yup, definitely vodka. She took a minuscule sip and set the frosted glass down.
“No, drink.” He demonstrated by throwing his shot back and slamming down the empty glass.
She only ever did shots on her twenty-first birthday and that had not ended well. “I’d rather sip—”
“Did I ask? Do as I say.”
Her hatred for him grew. Lifting the glass, she took a deep breath and tossed the contents back, sputtering as the icy fire rushed down her throat. Her eyes instantly watered. “Oh, God, that’s awful.”
He refilled her glass and pushed it forward. “Drink.”
“Seriously?”
He shot her a look that proved he was very serious.
Discouraged, she lifted the glass and hesitated. Two shots and she’d be drunk. Maybe that would be best. Reluctantly, she chugged it down and groaned.
When he refilled it again, she begged, “Please, no more.”
“Drink.”
“I can’t.”
“Either drink it or I’ll shove it down your throat myself.”
She pulled the glass closer and whispered asshole under her breath. Before she saw him move, her face was pressing into the counter. He had her bent over and pinned by the back of the neck.
“Do I look like someone you should fuck with?”
“Get off me!” She growled, but his hold only tightened.
A draft teased between her legs, reminding her she had nothing on under her sweater dress.
“Let me make this perfectly clear, so there is no misunderstanding in the future. You are nothing. Everything you touch, eat, and breathe belongs to us. We own you. Disrespect me again, and I’ll throw you out in the snow and let you freeze to death.”
She stilled, because he was that terrifying. She believed him. She believed he’d let her die in the cold and forbid his brothers from saving her.
“Please…” she whispered. “I’m sorry.” Fear choked her as she understood how helpless she was against him. He could do anything to her, and she was powerless to stop him. “Please don’t…” The air chilled around them. “…don’t hurt me.”
He let go, but she stayed bent over the counter, afraid to move.
“Get up.”
Pushing herself back, she slouched in the stool and drank the shot. Hunter poured two more shots for himself and swallowed them down in quick, practiced gulps. “I’m not interested.”
She kept her eyes on the ivory countertop.
“Understand? Fucking you would be a punishment for both of us.”
She should be relieved, but such harsh rejection held so much revulsion she felt like the world’s worst pariah.
“Say you understand. When I speak directly to you, you respond.”
“I understand.”
“Good.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a notepad and pen, sliding it to her. “I ask the questions, and you write down the answers. Start with your brother’s phone number.”
Her hand trembled as she lifted the pen. The vodka had made her thoughts heavy and she couldn’t recall the last few numbers. “I can’t remember—”
“I’ll wait until you do.”
The pressure to write something only added to her distraction. In the end, she put something down but was only partially sure it was right.
“I want the names of all his schools and employers.”
“Since high school?”
“Since birth.”
Over the next hour, she wrote down every detail she could remember about Jordan. Several times she reminded Hunter that Jordan was older and not her full brother, so there were parts of his past she simply didn’t know, but he didn’t care. In the end, her treachery filled six pages, detailing every identifying trait of Jordan in blazing betrayal. Her family would never forgive her.
When she set down the pen, Hunter collected the notepad and left. She let out a breath she felt like she’d been holding for more than an hour.
No matter how many times she tried to settle in, something always came along to remind her she was the enemy, the unwanted captive they had to feed and could fuck at will. This wasn’t home. It was her prison. She couldn’t figure out if the wise response was to accept her fate and surrender, or do whatever she could to escape.