Page 146 of Bound By Her

Then lifted her, feet dangling above the floor.

“You are not this person,” he snarled, slamming her against the wall.

White-hot agony radiated through her skull. Her body screamed for oxygen, her lungs burning, her fingers clawing uselessly at his grip.

The pressure increased.

Her kicks weakened. Black spots danced in her vision.

Jonathan leaned in, his breath hot, mocking. “Do you think you can shut me out?”

His grip tightened.

“Do you think you can pretend you’re somewhere else?”

Her head swam. Panic clawed at her ribs.

Jonathan’s sneer deepened. His pupils swallowed his irises, his gaze a black abyss.

“Think you can imagine you’re withhim?”

Then—he let go.

She hit the floor, gasping, choking on her own desperate inhalation.

The next hit landed like a wrecking ball. A brutal punch to the gut. Pain exploded outward, her body folding in on itself as she wheezed for air. Her stomach clenched violently, vision tunneling.

Jonathan’s fingers locked around her arm, dragging her across the room, her limbs weak and unresponsive.

The next moment, she was flying—her body slamming into a glass end table. A decanter of alcohol shattered upon impact, raining further shards of glass onto the floor.

A scream tore from her lips.

Somewhere outside, a struggle raged. It seemed Eric and Crest were fighting in the hallway.

A boot to her shoulder flipped her onto her back. Her breath hitched as tiny slivers of glass dug into her bare skin. Blood—warm, slick—ran in tiny rivers across her ribs.

She blinked up at him.

The knife gleamed in his hand.

The room tilted. Everything slowed.

Two things became terrifyingly clear.

One—he wasn’t nearly done.

Two—he was going to kill her.

The weight of that truth settled over her like a shroud. Adria wasn’t about to be tortured to death.

Not by him.

If she was going to die, it would be on her own fucking terms.

She let out a breath. A sharp, hollow laugh. “You always were pathetic.”

Jonathan’s expression twisted.

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