Page 11 of Beautifully Ruined
It’s a cool expression, commanding. What I imagined The Ghost to have in his arsenal. But there’s nothing sexual about it.
He’s telling me, ordering me, to be quiet and calm by look alone.
I don’t nod, but I drop my gaze instinctively to the floor like I’m bowing down.
“See,” the man says in heavily accented English. “She is alive.”
Then the man pulls out a gun and points it at my temple.
“Now, disable that request, or I’ll kill your Violet in front of you. the choice is yours.”
Chapter Three
CADE
I’m fucked.Backed into the tightest corner imaginable, and…
My chest is vice tight, and blood like ice sludge.
My pulse roars a beat in my ears.
Jesus.
The monster has got a gun to her head.
A fucking gun.
What the fuck have I done?
A gun. To her head.
What the actual fuck did I expect from a man like this?
Men like Ivan don’t allow anyone to fuck with their agenda. He’ll fuck them right back.
Just like he’s doing here. With my Violet.
I stare at Vi as time seems to move like cold molasses.
She isn’t bruised, doesn’t look hurt.
I take every inch of her I can see.
Wait.
There’s a bruise on her upper arm, just peeking around the side from the back of her arm. And her throat has a red line. It doesn’t take much for me to work out it belongs to the rough piece of fabric that was tossed on her as she was flung in here.
The fucker tied that tight around her neck.
And she’s shaking, trying desperately not to.
Anger, hot and wild, sears through my veins with a jolt of energy, and I think I could rip Ivan’s head off with my bare hands.
But he’d shoot her if I made a move toward him.
The cramped spot I’m in gets tighter, smaller, and the oxygen is thin.
I need to think. Fucking think.
