Total pages in book: 331
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 315585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1578(@200wpm)___ 1262(@250wpm)___ 1052(@300wpm)
I hear him unzip his pants, then he’s tossing me onto my back. He rips my T-shirt off my heaving chest before wrapping his hand around my neck, squeezing it so tightly my eyes feel like they’re going to pop out of their sockets. “It’ll be like old times, Eve. You on your knees and me fucking your face.”
A single tear falls from the corner of my eye, and he leans down, licking his way up my cheek, and I cower away from him. “Don’t worry, sis. I’ll make sure he sees all the tapes…new and old.”
I reach up, grip the handle of the knife in his side, and yank it out. He sits up, screaming, and I go to stab him again, but something hits me in the side of the face, making me see stars for the second time.
“Goddammit,” he growls, getting off me.
I roll over, cradling my face, and fall off the side of the bed with a thud. It momentarily knocks what little air I had left out of me.
Blinking, my eyes begin to focus, and I look up to see him just as he stands over me. He grips my right ankle, and I twist in his grasp, slamming my free foot into the side where I stabbed him.
He drops me, and I scramble to the bathroom door since it’s the closest. The bloody knife is right by it. I could throw it at him, but that will just give him an advantage—a weapon to kill me with—and I don’t know where my gun went. I’m assuming he still has it.
So I quickly crawl on my hands and knees over to the bathroom door, grab the knife, and slam the door shut behind me. Getting up on my knees, I lock it and then fall backward.
I cradle the knife to my chest, trying to catch my breath. He can get in. That piece-of-shit lock isn’t going to save me, but it can give me an extra few seconds to catch my breath. When he gets in, I’m going to have to decide: try to fight him off or kill myself before he gets an advantage over me. He came prepared and probably has drugs on him that he’ll shoot me up with.
I won’t be that woman again. I’ll die before I allow him to touch me. Tightening my hands around the handle, I hold the knife to my neck. If he gets in, I won’t have more than a couple of seconds.
FORTY-FIVE
KASHTON
Haidyn pulls up to her driveway, and I jump out, running into her house. “Eve?” I call out, getting no response. I rush through her living room, past the kitchen, and see a trail of blood that leads to her bedroom. “Everett?” I shout, panicking more than I already was when she ran out of Carnage.
I enter her room, and there’s blood everywhere. Signs of a struggle on the bed as her comforter, sheets, and pillows are disheveled. I follow the trail of blood to her bathroom door. There are handprints smeared all over the white wood.
“Oh, fuck,” Saint whispers, entering the bedroom, followed by Haidyn.
“Eve?” I try to open the door, but it’s locked.
I don’t even bother giving a warning. I grab hold of the doorframe, rear back, and kick the door open. The wood splinters and the door crashes against the interior wall.
She’s sitting on the floor, naked and covered in blood. She holds a bloody butcher knife in her hand, the tip pressing into her neck. I slowly kneel down in front of her. “Eve, I’m here,” I tell her softly to not frighten her.
Her wide eyes look up at mine. “I’m…sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s okay.” I reach out. “Give me the knife, Eve.” Her knuckles are white from gripping the handle.
As if she forgot she was holding it, she drops it to the floor like it’s on fire. Her lips tremble when she whispers, “He’s here.”
“Check the house,” I bark at Saint.
“Who am I looking for, Eve?” Saint asks.
She rocks back and forth, and I reach out, cupping her tear-streaked face. “Look at me, Eve. Eyes on me,” I order and her red-rimmed eyes find mine. She can’t not follow an order. Now I know why. “Who is here, Eve? Tell me. Who are we looking for?” I’m sure I can guess, but I need her to tell me.
“Ev-Evan.”
Saint takes off and Haidyn rips a towel off the counter, tossing it to me.
“I’m sorry…” She reaches for the knife again, but Haidyn picks it up and throws it onto the sink and out of her reach.
“Did she cut herself?” he asks me.
She’s been suicidal before. There’s so much blood that I can’t tell if she’s harmed herself or if he did it. There was a lot on her bed and the floor. An obvious path was left where she crawled across the bathroom to where she sits with her back to the wall. It all can’t be from him, otherwise he’d be dead on the bedroom floor. The knife is covered in it as well, letting me know it was used.