Page 9 of Colton
I nod, almost like I’d be grateful to.
Not before I bite the fucker off.
Suddenly, he releases me, my head lolling forward without his vice-like grip, and I release a whoosh of air I didn’t know I’d been holding. He reaches down and grips my chin in his forefinger and thumb, staring at me with a look so haunting, I don’t know whether to cry or scream.
“I should...” he starts, breaking off mid-sentence as he bares his teeth. I’m reminded of a rabid animal, and fear makes me shake uncontrollably. I don’t have to pretend around this man. He grips me by the throat and hauls me to my feet, slamming me against the wall as he tightens his grip on me.
“Please!” I gasp, clawing at his hands as he loses control, his eyes darkening and his dick pressing into me. Against my will, sparks fly in my core as I imagine him forcing himself into me... I close my eyes. Now is not the time for my fucking rape kink to show its ugly head. Fantasy is one thing; reality is quite another.
He’s going to rape me. Oh my God, I need to prepare myself for this. I knew this was a possibility.
“But not yet.”
He releases me, and I slump down the wall, my hand moving instinctively to my bruised throat. Colton leaves the room without looking back, and I don’t even dare close my eyes to recover.
Stop being so fucking scared! You knew what you were getting yourself into!
I grit my teeth and take a deep, shaky breath before rising to my feet. I smooth down my hair and clothes, hating the way my throat aches when I swallow. I gather the photographs, determined to take them with me.
Xavier left them here for me to find—of that, I’m sure. But Colton didn’t expect to see me in his dad’s bedroom, almost like this room is off-limits to the maid.
Why?
There must be hundreds of photographs in this fucking folder; I need to sit and go through them all one by one, to try and see if I can find my sister in any of them. But my heart aches when I remember every girl in here is someone’s daughter. Someone’s sister.
I fucking hate Xavier Blackwood.
I turn to the door when I hear footsteps and raised voices, and my eyes dart around the room. There’s nowhere for me to hide! The door handle twists, and I throw myself underneath the four-poster bed, the folder shoved beneath my belly.
“Get in there,” growls a familiar voice, and my blood freezes when a girl stumbles into the room, completely naked.
The door closes, and it’s just the three of us in the room.
Oh my God. How will I survive this?
Chapter 5
Luella
Iclamp my hand over my mouth, hiding my frightened breath. I’ve been in her shoes; I know what’s coming next. But Xavier isn’t like any other beast I’ve encountered. This one needs putting down. The mattress creaks above me as the girl scrambles onto it upon his command, and I let my forehead fall onto the wooden floor, its dusty chill doing nothing to calm my frantic pulse. I try not to think about what will happen if he finds me here—or worse—if he doesn’t. Can I sit here while he violates that poor girl, hearing her cry and plead for help? My body shakes violently when he kicks his shoes off, his trousers and belt hitting the floor soon after.
Think of your plan. You cannot fuck up now.
My hand moves subconsciously toward my blade, fingers twitching to grab it, but I stop myself, knowing I can’t afford to strike now. I scrunch my eyes shut and pray to a God that’s never once listened to me before that someone can save me. But I know I’m alone in this; no one is coming to save me.
His cologne is stifling; he must bathe in it. That girl will forever be haunted by this rich stench, a reminder of herdownfall. I have no choice but to inhale it, and then I hear her whimper.
It cuts through me like a knife, twisting in my heart as she begs for the monster to let her go.
He’s never going to let you go, babe. Never.
“Shh, sweetie. Just do as I say, hmm? Everything will be fine; you know I won’t hurt you.” Xavier’s voice makes me shudder. He’s lying, and there’s nothing I can do.
I want to reach up and hold her hand, drag her under the bed with me, and call the fucking police, but my goal is higher than that. I want to end this bastard’s life.
“Such a good girl. Aren’t you? You’re very pretty. Like your sister.”
I still—wishing I could cut his words out. I don’t want to hear this.
