Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 67362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
My jaw clenches so tightly I feel my teeth grinding together when he starts to pull it down, exposing a little of her shoulder. I swallow down the anger that’s threatening to explode within me. Say no… I want her to tell him no, because if she doesn’t. If she doesn’t, something bad is going to happen, not only to him but to her.
For a moment, Stella just stands there frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. I’m seconds away from sprinting over there, fuck her response. He’s not allowed to touch what’s ours. Before I can make a move, Stella snaps out of it and slaps his hand away, and then shoves against his chest.
“I wouldn’t suck your dick if you offered me a million dollars. You’re a disgusting pig.” The last word has barely left her mouth, and he pounces on her. One hand circles around her throat, while the other grabs a handful of her blouse, ripping the fabric away from her skin.
I don’t know who moves first Cameron or me, a red haze coats my mind. One second we are standing in the doorway, and the next, we are across the room.
My mind goes completely blank… the prick just made the biggest mistake of his life, and he is about to pay dearly for it. You don’t fuck with what is mine.
9
Stella
Paul’s meaty fingers dig into the tender flesh of my throat. My chest constricts as he squeezes so hard, I can barely get air into my lungs. Like a wild animal, I lash out, my fingernails dragging across his skin. I do so, hoping that I can cause him some kind of pain to make him loosen his grip, but my actions only seem to anger him more, making him squeeze a little tighter.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I say a silent prayer that I’ll make it out of here in one piece. A strange gurgling noise meets my ear, and it takes me a second to realize that the sound came from my throat. I can feel myself growing lightheaded. Just as panic starts to really settle in, Paul releases his hold on me. Thank god.
Sagging to the floor, I clutch my throat as I suck in a painful breath. When I pry my eyes open, I don’t quite know what to expect, but it sure isn’t what I see. Cam and Easton have Paul pinned to the nearby wall. Easton is holding him up, while Cameron is raining down punches on his face. I can hear Paul’s head bouncing off the wall with each hit.
“You shouldn’t have touched what’s ours,” Easton growls, the tone of his voice cuts through me like a shard of glass. It’s dark and edgy like he’s barely holding on by a thread.
“Now you’re gonna pay,” Cameron seethes between his punches. His voice sounds just as dark and scary as Easton’s.
I don’t know how I manage, but somehow, I make it back onto my feet. Stumbling through the kitchen, I put as much distance between the three men and myself as I can. I need to get away from here. I can’t watch them kill another person. I can’t be part of this again.
Without looking back, I run through the building until I make it to the side door. I don’t want to draw any attention to myself, so I speed walk to my car instead of running.
I fumble with my keys, my throat aching, and my heart thundering inside my chest but manage to open the door after a few tries. My hands are shaking when I turn the ignition, and the engine roars to life. Hitting the gas, I pull out of the parking spot faster than I should, surprised when I don’t hit another car. Tires squeal beneath me as I speed away. Tears prick at my eyes, but I blink them away.
Shit, shit, shit. Why can’t just one day go as planned? Am I asking for too much? All I want is to have a normal life. Go to work, go home, take care of Grams, and then do it all over again the next day. Why the hell do I keep ending up in situations like this? My thoughts race through my head, making it hard for me to concentrate on anything in particular.
The drive goes by surprisingly fast, and before I know it, I’m pulling up to Grams’ house. I feel a little better now, though I’m still shaking a bit when I get out of the car and walk to the front door. I don’t know what’s worse, the thought of Paul touching me or the thought of the guys killing him for it. I don’t know if I can handle someone dying because of me, even if he does deserve it.