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)
I whimpered, unable to bear him speaking of my daughter in such a way. With his eyes on me, he said, “And she fucking loves it . . . watch.” Meister put his hand on the back of Sapphira’s neck and pushed her forward. Her feet stumbled as she tried to keep upright. Meister bent her over the table in the center of the room and kicked up her soiled dress.
I lost control. Every fiber of my being flared to life at the thought of Sapphira on that table, being forced. And when she looked up at me, her eyes helpless yet resigned to her fate, I could not do anything else.
I kicked. I kicked and I scratched the guard holding me, frantic and completely wild. “Fuck!” the guard cried when I managed to hit between his legs. His arms fell from me, and I charged forward. I ran at Meister, full force, and pushed on his chest. He only stumbled back a fraction. But it was enough for Sapphira to get free, to back away. And I swung. Fists formed, I lashed out at his face. I struck and I struck, until Meister’s patience broke and he struck me across the face. I fell at the blow, fell until my back hit the table. But he kept coming, face raging, his strikes hitting every target—my face, my stomach, my chest.
“Phebe!” I heard Sapphira call, crying behind me. But all I could think was that she was safe now.
I had saved her from him.
Meister yanked me closer to him. His blue eyes were on fire. “You want a fuck that bad, slut?” he asked through gritted teeth, spitting on my face.
I did not answer, but instead let him spin me around and slam my chest down onto the table. The wind was knocked out from me, but when I looked up, I saw the guard that had previously held me holding my daughter instead. And she was breaking her heart, crying. She watched, she looked into my eyes as Meister lifted my dress and rammed himself inside me. Still sore from his fingernails cutting my insides, his fingers taking me so harshly, and my face still throbbing from his blows, I kept my expression calm. I smiled weakly, trying to tell her I was okay. I smiled at Sapphira and kept her gaze. If she held my eyes with her own, she would not see Meister plowing into me so roughly. She would not see me wanting to scream out in agony at the pain.
He took and he took, but all I could think was that I was glad it was me and not Sapphira. I could not have seen that . . . it would have killed me.
Meister grunted and bellowed behind me until I felt his hips jerking. Until I heard him shout through his release. I felt his seed spurt inside me and breathed, knowing that it was over.
Meister leaned over me, and with his mouth at my ear said, “Tomorrow you will both be out of my life and going to hell. Then I’ll go after everyone you love. Your sister at the Hangmen and that prick you’ve been screwing. Each will die. Slowly. And they’ll die knowing you condemned them. Damned them.” Meister signaled for the guard to release Sapphira. She stood on the spot, not knowing what to do.
I heard the men’s footsteps move toward the exit and the door close behind them. When I looked to check they were gone, my legs collapsed and I fell to the ground. I tried to lift my body, but I could not.
“Phebe!” Sapphira’s soft voice sounded like the welcome of heaven to my ears. “Phebe,” she said again. Tears flooded her face as she looked down at me. When I traced her gaze, I saw the blood coming from between my legs, staining my upper thighs.
“It is okay,” I said, and almost broke when she came to my side and knelt beside me. I drank in her beautiful features. And I let my tears loose when I saw that freckle I had always loved to the side of her left eye.
“You are hurt.” She tentatively reached out her hand, unsure where she could touch me. But I wanted to feel the touch of her hand so much. I reached out and took it, bringing it to my face. “Why?” she said and cried harder, her walls tumbling down. “Why did you do that? He . . . he has hurt you so badly.”
“I could not let him hurt you anymore.” I tried to move my legs. Sapphira put her arms under mine and helped me move to lean against the nearest wall. She was so skinny, so weak, yet she carried me . . . my baby.