Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 654(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
My stomach fell. He was seething. The skin on his face was red, and his muscles were strained. His teeth were bared, and veins bulged from his neck. He yanked my hair back again, and I cried out. “You were with one of them, weren’t you, whore? Fucking them, fucking their cocks like the cult cum-slut that you are.”
Meister reached down and slammed his hand between my legs. I screamed, unable to hold back my reaction when he dug his fingers into my folds, ripping at the flesh.
Meister’s rough, unshaven cheek rubbed against mine, burning my skin. “After everything I gave you. After saving you from dying along with all the other dumbfucks at that cult, this is how you repay me?”
Shaking and fearful, I managed to open my mouth and ask, “What have you done with her?”
Meister’s head drew back, and he smiled. “You mean the little eight-year-old pussy you brought me as a gift? The one I’d wanted in the cult from the minute I saw her?” His malicious smile caused my skin to shiver. “Nothing. She is safe. A girl as pretty as her, untouched and a virgin, is going to make me fucking fortune.” He pulled me closer by my hair. “That gift almost . . . almost makes up for your disobedience. You’re a good little whore-fisher, Phebe. Bringing me only the top-quality bait for my buyers. I should have you on staff. We’d make a fortune putting your skills to use.”
My eyes closed, ignoring his taunts, relieved that Grace would remain unharmed for now. “Open your motherfucking eyes!” Meister snarled. He jumped to his feet, pulling me to stand. My scalp felt on fire as I struggled to escape his hold, the pain that was shooting down my spine. I was slammed against the wall, my lungs losing air at the impact. Meister’s huge body pressed against mine. He lifted my dress and, ripping my panties in two, thrust his fingers inside. I screamed.
“What’s wrong?” His lips ran over my cheek, a dark contrast to his hands scraping and stabbing within my channel. “Did he not take you like this? The sniper? Xavier?” I froze, my eyes colliding with his in shock. “Xavier Charles Deyes. Plano, Texas. Scout Sniper, Marines. Sergeant-at-arms for the Hades Hangmen.” He smiled wider, then licked over my lips. “I know everything about him. I know his brother killed his wife. I know he has a nephew who’s still alive, lives with his Aunt Claire and Uncle Tom.” He nodded his head in approval. “Good-looking kid. I went to his school and made sure it was really him. Zane’s his name. He kept Deyes as his surname, even though daddy-dearest went postal and hacked up his mother on the kitchen floor.” He sighed. “I’ve got to make sure I target the right people, Phebe. This war shit ain’t no horseplay.”
My eyes widened in horror. Meister looked affronted. “What? You thought I’d just let them get away with taking my girl?” He shrugged. He brought his fingers out of my channel, leaving the tips resting at the entrance. “Shame you came back so soon though. It was unexpected.” I searched his eyes. What did he mean by that? “I’d just bought three barrels of cesium. I was in the middle of making a dirty bomb, real potent shit. I was going to watch that Hangmen compound burn to the fucking ground, a smile on my face, with all those bastards inside.” He shook his head in mock-disappointment. “All their sluts and kids too. The bastards deserve it. I did some digging on that MC. It used to be an all-white crew; they had a no-blacks rule. Did shit right. But now they have a black-and-white mutt riding beside them. The Hades Hangmen, just another fucking letdown to the white race.”
“You are insane,” I whispered, thankful that he did not get to go through with his plan. Lilah . . . Grace . . . AK . . . all their family. The children.
Meister froze, then rolled his head my way. “Insane? No. I’m in a fucking war, a war I’m going to win.” He forced his fingers back inside me, so roughly I knew he would have drawn blood. “And you were going to be my woman. The one beside me when the Brotherhood and Klan unite and take back what is rightfully ours.”
He leaned in until his mouth was at my ear. “So I had to get a replacement. I need a whore, after all. I’m fucking Meister. I needed a good little Aryan princess on my arm . . . and on my cock. Meine Liebchen.”
Meister tore his hands from between my legs, and I sagged against the wall. He marched to the door and ordered something from one of his men. Meister shut the door again and rested his back against the door. He stared at me, and I never moved my eyes from him.