Page 26 of Vow of Revenge
Methodical hands tugged the cord.
Each limb stretched and pulled, strung up like a starfish on his bed, secured in place like a splayed rat ready for dissection.
A lighter sparked, his features dark and menacing as shadows flickered.
“You’ll never run from me, Ana.” His voice was like ice. A rolled-up auction brochure in his hand was on fire, the tip burned with flames as he held it close. Too close.
Warmth turned to searing heat.
The smell of singed hair made me whimper.
Unbearable pain between my legs followed.
“If you disappear again, they’ll find you floating in the lake with your child tied to your waist.” That’s what he said when the burning intensified.
His statement wasn’t an idle threat. He had money, contacts and cruelty in his favour.
Those words are my trigger.
My fear.
My reason for staying in hell.
Tonight, I burned in hell, my penitence for leaving him.
Black eyes came alive in the kindling ashes. They haunt my nightmares.
A veil of darkness took his cruelty and hid it away from me when I fainted.
Present day
“You actually had sex with him?” Syrah cooed, swanning back into my room with a towel wrapped around her hair like a turban.
“Some asshole shoved an ecstasy pill down my throat. I went back to find you, but you’d left already.” My eyebrow cocked. “With Brett?”
Syrah’s face pinked a pretty shade like summer roses. “Yes, I’m so sorry, Freya. I can’t believe you got spiked. Next time we go out, we both bring our phones, okay?”
“There’s only so much crap I can stuff in the lining of my bra.” I tossed last night’s bra her way, but it missed by a mile and hooked on the chair instead.
“What a shot!” Syrah punched the air.
“I couldn’t have done that if I tried!” I shook my head and felt the world spin, or was it just me. I was having the hangover from hell.
“No joking, Freya, you could have died. What was it like?”
“The sex or the drugs?” I smirked.
“All of it! Every last sordid detail, right down to the position.”
“How about position with an ‘s’.” I felt quite smug at my new lease of sexual adventure, especially with one of the hottest guys I’d ever met.
“Holy shit. I love slutty, Freya. She’s relaxed and sexy.” Syrah landed on the mattress beside my legs.
The bouncy movement made me feel woozy. I slumped backward, covering my achy body with the sheet. “My mouth is as dry as Ghandi’s flip flop.” My lips smacked together. “As much as I hated the control the drug had over me, it made me unbearably horny. You know me – I’d never give a prick like, De Courcy, the time of day, but when he touched me… Jeeeeez!” My eyelids squished shut briefly. “I nearly exploded. It was amazing. Like really fucking incredible and intense. I’ve never felt anything like that in my whole entire life. Between him and the high, I had the best orgasms ever.”
Syrah didn’t say a word, she just stared at me with a weird knowing smile.
“Then I woke up completely starkers with big red love bites on my boobs. Who actually does that? It looks gross. When I realised that I’d fallen asleep at his place, I couldn’t get out of there quick enough.”
