Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 99623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99623 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Melanie presses her fingertips against my chest and shoves me back into the wall. “If I ever see you anywhere near him again, there will be hell to pay.” She pushes me again and I whimper, which makes her grin. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” I whisper, desperately looking over her shoulder for Stella. But I don’t see her anywhere.
“Good,” Melanie spits the word at me before turning to Sterling. The sight of them together turns my stomach—and not with jealousy.
They’re a perfect pair, seeing as they’re both sociopaths. Who in the hell behaves this way?
Who lets their tormentor touch them the way you let yours touch you? the small, ugly voice in my brain asks. Not just one man, but two.
Black spots obscure my vision and the floor shakes and rolls beneath my feet. Just breathe, I tell myself, but I can’t seem to take in a breath.
My chest heaves as I gasp and sputter. I tug at the high neckline of my shirt, desperate for air. But it’s no use. I stumble against the wall and collapse down onto the floor.
Someone in the distance calls my name, but I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I can’t do anything other than lie here and beg the universe to help me. Because once again, I’m that eight-year-old girl in the closet, unable to help herself.
“Emmy!” Cool hands wrap around my shoulders, gently shaking me. “Oh my God! Emmy, are you okay?”
My head lolls to the side and I stare blankly, not really seeing.
“Did you take something? What’s wrong? We need to get you out of here.”
“Is your friend okay?” an unfamiliar masculine voice asks.
“I don’t know!” She shakes me again. “Will you... will you keep an eye on her while I call someone?”
“Yeah.”
The party continues around me, but I’m not here anymore. Not really. I’m back in space, only this time, instead of floating, I’m hurtling toward a black hole.
“Just hang tight, babe. Help’s on the way.”
Chapter Fifteen
Emmy
The sound of dull but furious voices rouses me from my stupor.
“The hell were you doing at a party anyway, Luna?”
Where am I? And who in the hell is Luna?
“Why do you even care?” my roommate asks with more fire in her voice than I’ve ever heard. “You gonna tattle on me?”
“You’re acting like a brat.”
“What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”
A rough, all-male laugh sounds, filling the space around me.
“Now, are you going to help me get her inside or not?”
“As long as you keep up your end of the bargain, I’ll help.”
Stella huffs. “You might not think much of me, Samson Carter, but I’m not a liar.”
“You don’t have the first clue of what I think of you.”
Two loud slams finally unseal my eyelids, allowing me to take stock of my surroundings. We’re at the dorm building. How the...
I don’t get to finish the thought when a strange man flings open the back door and reaches for me. Panic swarms and I scream at the top of my lungs.
“Stop! Get away from me!” I kick and thrash, all coherent thought lost in my struggle to get away.
“Holy Shit, Luna! Get your damn friend before she kicks out my teeth!” the deep voice booms, making me shiver in fear.
“Emmy!” Stella’s worried voice cuts through my terror. “Emmy, stop!”
“Stella?” Her name comes out scratchy and thin. “What... where?”
“Shh, we’ll talk inside.”
“Who?”
Thankfully, she understands what I’m asking, despite not being able to string more than two words together in a sentence.
“That’s Samson. He’s a... he’s someone I know. He brought us home, and he’s going to help get you inside, okay?”
My pulse hammers at the thought of some random guy touching me, but Stella’s quick to soothe my distress.
“I’ve known him since I was in diapers. He won’t hurt you. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, and she moves out of the doorway, making room for Samson to try again.
I whimper when his broad shoulders obscure my vision. He grits his teeth and asks, “You gonna try and kick me again?”
Just breathe. He’s not going to hurt you. “No.”
He leans into the car and helps me out and onto my feet. “I’ve got it,” I say, even as my knees wobble beneath me. Gritting my teeth, I press my palm into the side of the car and focus on breathing and holding myself up.
“Are you good to head inside?” Stella asks.
“I, um. Yes, I think.”
“I’ll help you.” Stella wraps an arm around my waist, and I wrap mine around her shoulders. Every step is grueling, not because I’m hurt but because I’m tired. Like down to my bones, through my marrow, to my soul tired.
We slowly make our way from the parking lot to the dorm building. At the door, Samson turns to us. “Gonna need your card, Luna.”
“It’s in my back pocket.”
He balks, looking unsure.