Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56576 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Instantly, his hold disappears and shock courses through me as I twist around coming face to face with my attacker. Is this a game to him? I don’t understand why he let me go, maybe to leave me feeling hopeful?
Flattening myself against the wall, I look at him. He’s tall and handsome, and for one single second, I’m stunned like a deer seconds away from death. Standing there, I stare at the man who has been following me.
The same man who was sitting in Sharon’s waiting room with me hours ago.
He lifts his hands, and I flinch. “I’m not going to hurt you. I would never hurt you,” he says. His words don’t match his actions though, and when I look into his eyes, I see emptiness. I see someone without a conscious, without the ability to feel. It chills me to the bone. I feel like prey caught in a trap, and here right in front of me is a predator.
Taking a step to the side, I slide along the wall. My gaze flicks to the door and then back to him. If I want to get out of here alive, I’m going to have to be fast. He’s definitely stronger than me, but I might be faster, especially if I can catch him off guard. I don’t care if he says he’s not going to hurt me. I need to get out. Get away from him.
All I can hear is my heartbeat hammering in my ears. A rush of fear ripples through me as he takes a step forward, partially blocking the front door. My throat closes, and it feels like an elephant is sitting on my chest.
Run. Escape. I internally scream at myself, but it feels like my feet have blocks of concrete attached to them. Snapping out of it, I turn on my heels and rush toward the kitchen. If I can just get a knife or something to fight him off. I toss anything and everything in my path at him, but nothing deters him, and I don’t make it far before he catches me. His hand wraps around my wrist, and he tugs me backward, causing my body to collide with his chest. The air is forced from my lungs with the impact.
His strength is a reminder that I am nothing more than a fly in the fight against him. Wrapping both arms around me, almost as if he’s giving me a bear hug, he picks me up and presses me to the nearest wall.
“Please, don’t, please…” I start to beg.
“Shhh,” he murmurs softly. The man’s face is millimeters away from mine, and I can feel his harsh heartbeat through the thin material of his shirt, the clean scent of soap invading my senses.
He releases his hold on me, but I’m still trapped between him and the wall with nowhere to go. No escape. Fear wraps around my throat like a shackle. Lifting a hand to my trembling face, he cups my cheek and gently swipes away the tears. I wasn’t even aware they’d started falling from my eyes.
“I would never ever hurt you. You are way too important to me, Dove. You have to trust me, I promise everything is going to be okay.” He tries to soothe me, but not a single part of me believes him. My mind is racing, and I have a thousand questions. Why else would he break into my house and attack me if he wasn’t going to hurt me? How does he know my name? And most importantly, why am I important to him? He must have the wrong person. This is all a big misunderstanding.
I’m shaking now, consumed with fear, and my vision is blurry with tears.
“Stop,” he orders, slamming a fist into the wall beside my head. His voice is harsh and only makes me cry harder. He seems to grow frustrated by my failure to listen and releases a hard sigh a moment later. “I didn’t want to have to do this to you… but you’ve left me no choice.”
He takes a step closer, and we’re so close now that we are chest to chest. Our faces are only inches apart. My eyes are in line with his full lips, and that’s when I realize just how much taller he is. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him reaching for something, and I know this has to be it. The end is near, after all I’ve been through in my life, this is how it’s going to end.
“I’m sorry,” I whimper, and even in the face of death, I’m unable to stop the tears from coming. I want to fight, but it’s as if there isn’t anything left in me.
I’m barely hanging on, barely breathing, barely here. I flinch when he leans into me and buries his face into my hair. The action is so intimate, and when I hear him inhale sharply like he’s smelling me, a shiver skids down my spine.