Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“I didn’t help him,” I finally say.
“Help who?”
I focus on his face. It’s him. Paul. “Don’t touch me. Stay away.”
“Isla,” he says, his voice calm. “Isla, it’s me. Bryce.” He shakes me gently. “Snap out of it. You had a bad dream.”
I can’t register my high-octane scream. It’s like a tornado, wild and out of control. “GET AWAY FROM ME.”
I claw at his face, not to hurt him but to push him away and ensure he doesn’t harm me. They always say I’m safe, that I’m their good girl, that they love me. But what they love is to hurt me. To view their twisted art on my skin.
I’m in a vise. I can’t move. He’s overpowered me. His arms are a steel cage wrapped around me, holding me prisoner. But this prison doesn’t seem as bad as those I’ve been forced into most of my life. Something about this one doesn’t make me dread the next moment.
“You’re safe, Isla. It was just a dream.”
But it wasn’t a dream. It was a vivid flashback of my life and the beginning of my personal horror story. Tears stream from my eyes in rivulets. If it were possible to drown in tears, I would have been pulled under by their heavy weight.
A crash startles me. What is that? There are no animals here. I pull back and gaze up at him, and he stiffens. He tries to withdraw, but I hold onto him like a life raft in the middle of the ocean.
He pulls open the top drawer of the nightstand and grabs a gun. “You know how to use this?”
I nod. “Yes, I took a few classes when I left home.”
“Good. Take it. It’s loaded. Do not hesitate to shoot if anyone other than me tries to come in.”
I nod as he places a chaste kiss on my forehead and walks to the bedroom door, leaving me alone in the darkness, holding a deadly weapon.
Chapter Ten
BRYCE
My apartment is state-of-the-art with the highest security system known to man. It cost me a small fortune, but it guarantees I would hear an uninvited fly if it dared to enter my apartment.
I might not be so vigilant if I didn’t have my psychotic son’s ex-girlfriend in my bed. Paul might be an idiot, but he’s well-connected, and I wouldn’t put it past him to make a deal with my enemies to wreak vengeance.
I grab the baseball bat from my office and saunter down the hall. It’ll be a shame to bloody up Babe Ruth’s signature. This was one of the first things I ever bought—a completely frivolous rich man thing to do. Coming up in the Bronx and playing baseball, owning this little piece of MLB memorabilia made me feel like I’d finally made it. Breaking something as priceless as this bat tells me that the poor kid from the wrong side of the tracks now makes more money than Midas.
The fucker is rummaging through the drawers in my kitchen. Not sure what the prick thinks he’ll find here.
For a big guy, I can be quiet when I need to be. It probably comes from years of making myself invisible so I didn’t get the shit kicked out of me by my father.
The fucker doesn’t even know I’m in the room. I’m slightly offended that an idiot like this broke into my apartment. He turns to the side, and I realize how fucked up everything is.
Brike McCain, my son’s so-called childhood best friend. The kid was so insane that no one would mess with him other than Paul, who saw the value in a kid like Brike. A stupid brute of a man who craved violence and mayhem more than Paul did. He treated Brike like a brother, a compatriot, and a partner. And for that, Brike pledged his undying loyalty to my son.
“Still not man enough to live your life, huh, Clive?”
Brike flings his body around, eyes wide and nostrils flared. A snarl escapes his mouth. “Looks like you wanna die, old man, because any motherfucker who says that name doesn’t live to see another day.”
“Young buck, I don’t think you grasp who the fuck I am.” My eyes flicker to the fish tank at the side of the room with three piranhas swimming in rapid succession, waiting for their next meal. “The last man who threatened my life became fish food.”
Brike steps forward, his lips turning up in a cocky smile. “I’m not some old geezer who can’t defend himself. They say you were a badass, but money and comfort made you a pathetic chump.”
An ear-piercing scream echoes in the darkness. His blood splashes against the wall, landing on the fridge and the microwave. Brike stumbles back, dropping the blade and cradling the side of his head bashed in by the now blood-stained bat.