Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78811 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
But I can’t think about that. I need to focus all my energy on getting out of here.
I walk into the bathroom, lock the door, and strip off my clothes to shower. No shampoo or conditioner can be found, so I use the bar of soap to scrub my hair and my body, then comb my fingers through my hair as best as I can. A glance in the mirror proves it’s not very effective. My hair is a thick mass of tangled blond waves around my head and rebellious in the best of times which this is far from. Since I have no other clothes, I put my underthings and dress back on because I’m not sleeping naked. I return to the bedroom, my gaze landing on that leather-bound book once more before I climb into bed. I fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the hard, uncomfortable pillow.
The following morning and afternoon pass uneventfully with the same woman bringing me food and taking the old tray for both breakfast and lunch. The soldier at the door remains watching, and she doesn’t speak a word to me. Hardly looks at me. I don’t know what I expect, but Amadeo doesn’t return all day. I don’t even know what I want. I’m afraid of him returning, but I also need him to. He’s my way out. I know that.
I wonder if he was on the helicopter I saw take off late in the afternoon. I guess it’s the fastest way to get places from such a remote location.
So when I hear men’s voices outside my door several hours after dinner that night, I sit up at attention and watch as the door opens. But it’s not Amadeo who enters. It’s the other one. His brother, I’m pretty sure. They look so similar, but this one has strange amber eyes, whereas Amadeo’s are that steely gray. He’s also younger. He shares that same darkness I sense from Amadeo, but this one has something reckless about him, too. Something as dangerous as Amadeo but wilder. Unharnessed and unpredictable.
The man enters and closes the door. He looks around the room, his gaze halting momentarily on that damn book before he faces me.
“Get any reading done yet?” he asks.
“What?” I ask, even though I know.
He gestures to the book. “Your family history. Did you read it yet?” He makes a point of annunciating as if I’m slow.
I don’t answer him, but I do hold his gaze. I already decided I’m not stripping naked for anyone again. If they want that, they’re going to have to make me. Then it will be out in the open the kind of men they are.
“Get up,” he says.
“No.”
“Get. Up.”
This time he picks up the desk chair, pulls it out a little, and slams it back onto the floor so violently it makes me flinch.
“Why? You want to get a look too? Like your brother?”
He grins, touching his thumb to the corner of his mouth the way men do when they’re appraising you. He takes a predatory step toward the bed, and I find myself leaning away.
“I thought my brother would have made it clear that you take orders. You don’t question them.”
“Are you the baby brother?” I ask, watching his eyes narrow infinitesimally. Button pushed.
“Are you hard of hearing? I said get up.”
“So are you following big brother’s orders, then?” I ask, standing now because I need to be ready. I know I’m treading on thin ice. “Because from my understanding, Amadeo is the man in charge. He didn’t mention anything about my having to take orders from his baby brother.”
He grins, and I know I’ve pushed too far. “You know what? I’d have thrown you in the grave with your father if it were up to me.”
I swallow hard, not doubting for a moment he’d still do just that.
“But I’m beginning to think Amadeo was right to keep you. You’re going to be fun, aren’t you?” he asks, that grin disappearing behind a curtain of darkness. “That or stupid. I’m going to put my money on the latter.”
“You’re as big an asshole as your brother, you know that?”
“No doubt. Let me make things abundantly clear for you,” he says low and menacing, and in the next instant, he takes my arm in a grip like a fucking vise and tugs me into his chest. He’s just as big and as strong as Amadeo, and I know I made a mistake pushing him. He’s going to make me pay.
I press my hands flat to his chest, but I won’t budge him. He towers over me, like his brother, and hauls me up on tiptoe so we’re nose-to-nose. He’s so close I can see the stubble of a five-o’clock shadow along his steel-cut jaw.
His eyes hold mine, but I concentrate on the scar across his cheek. The one that matches his brother’s.