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)
With that, I storm out of his office, slamming the front door behind me when I leave the house.
EIGHTEEN
EVERETT
Iwake up the following morning hungover and feeling like absolute shit. Everything hurts and I’m no longer ashamed. Just pissed off at myself for sleeping with Kashton. One second, and I folded like a chair for him.
Pathetic. It can’t happen again. I won’t allow it. Next time I fire a gun at him, I’ll make sure to hit him where it hurts.
Crawling out of bed, I pull on a T-shirt before making my way to the kitchen for some Advil.
Turning on the light to the living room, I jump, slapping my chest when I see the man sitting on my couch. “Fuck.” I let out a breath. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I snap, getting pissy. I’m irritated for several reasons. I knew this day would be shit too.
He lazily looks over my shirt. I’m glad I at least put something on, because I crawled into bed naked last night. I wish I had put underwear on, though. “We need to talk,” he says, not even bothering to meet my eyes.
“Call me. It’s easier for me to ignore,” I say and walk to my kitchen. I grab a bottle of water out of the fridge, but it’s snatched from my hands the next second. “Hey,” I snap, turning around.
He pushes my back into the counter, and I glare up at him. “I got a call.”
I huff. I don’t know who the fuck called him, and I know he won’t tell me if I ask. “I have it under control.”
He lifts his hand and runs his knuckles down my exposed neck. “I don’t think you do.”
I stiffen. Did Kashton leave marks? I mean, I’m covered in bruises, but that’s nothing new. Fighting off grown men will leave evidence. “Your concern isn’t needed. Leave.”
“You know he’s going to be a problem, right?”
I want to ask who the he is he’s talking about exactly, but I don’t. If I ask that, then he’ll definitely know I don’t have anything under control.
“You can’t fuck your way out of this, Eve.”
He’s got to be talking about Kashton; no way is he referring to Adam. “Maybe I should try it. Always seems to work for the Lords.” Sex is their answer to everything.
He grabs my upper arm and spins me around, forcing me to face the counter. He slides my hair off my shoulder and gently twists his fist around it, pulling my head to the side. I suck in a deep breath, and he pushes his body into my back and lowers his lips to my ear. “I need to release some tension. Bend over and spread your legs,” he whispers.
A sour taste fills my mouth. I want to blame it on the alcohol, but I know it’s from him touching me in such an intimate way. “I’m not into incest,” I tell him.
He chuckles, and when his free hand slides between my legs, I close my eyes and clench my thighs shut to keep him out. “You can act as tough as you want, Eve. But we both know you have no control over who fucks this cunt. I was the one who trained you, after all.”
Opening my eyes, I see a knife stabbed into the wooden block to my right. Close enough to…
I reach to grab it from the block to stab him, but he’s faster. He yanks me back from the counter with his fist still in my hair and shoves me away. I trip over my wobbly legs and fall so hard that I drop the knife, and he kicks it across the room.
I scramble to stand, my heart pounding, breathing erratic. He stands there staring at me with a vacant look in his eyes, though there’s a smile on his face. “You’re too predictable, Eve. That’s why he’d never fall for your shit.”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I shout.
“Do I need to remind you of where you came from? What you were made for?”
I swallow, trying to not lose my shit. That’s what he wants. A reason to drag me back to hell. No one escapes Dollhouse. Not to have the life that I do.
“No, sir,” I say, trying to sound appreciative. All Lords are the same. They want to be powerful.
That smile appears back on his face, and I feel nauseated. What he’s done to me. What I know he’s capable of. He is why I drink so much. It helps me forget what I wasn’t lucky enough to block out. Thankfully, he also talks a lot of shit. He may have trained me, but he’s never fucked me.
He steps into me, his hand cupping my chin, and I hold my breath as he leans down and gently kisses my forehead. “I’ll see you soon, sis.”