Lockwood Creek Book Three - Can be read as stand-alone.
Dr Chris Chambers had no intention of settling down, he loved the chase too damn much. Or so he told himself. And love 'em and leave 'em were words he swore by. And so what if names like play...
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~ ~ Chris ~ ~
Thank God!
Finally, the grunting stopped and I let out a slow relieved breath. My one good eye would need bleaching and my brain from witnessing that!
Honestly, how much shit could one man endure?
So far, I'd been tied up. Beat on. Left here to sit in my own filth and a headache that just wouldn't quit-But that, just then, topped the all-time things I never wanted to see again.
What was I talking about?
Well, that would be Heavy and Kim fucking and if I had anything in my stomach it would have welcomed the dirty splintered floor.
Breathing through my pounding headache, I shifted my legs and felt the plastic ties dig into my ankles. Wincing, I couldn't do anything about it, especially since that psychopath had bound my wrists again. I did wiggle my hands though to help the circulation.
It was pretty damn obvious, like this, I had zero hope of getting myself out of this.
A shrill screech had my eyes opening and my head lifting. It was Kim. I couldn't see her but I heard her deceptively sweet southern drawl. "... How's a girl supposed to survive if she can't get a damn signal?" She slurred a little. "And the flies out here...It's worse than living back at the trailer-park!"
Out of the corner of my eye, (my good one) Heavy was sitting on a chewed-up arm-chair drinking from a bottle of hard liquor and scratching at his gut. He was shirtless and looked sweaty from his earlier exertion, but I was grateful he had pants back on. He grumbled between sips, "Quit complaining, woman."
And then his eyes shifted to me and I shut mine and tried to keep my breathing very slow.
"You think he's expecting us to stay here-for much longer?" she asked.
Heavy said nothing for a moment and I could feel him watching me when he said, "He told me he would get it done by the end of the day."
"Can't we just do it now? What does it matter who does it, I'm missing all my favourite TV shows out here in the middle of nowhere!?"
I gulped.
Done.
Shit... that meant.
Yesterday I wanted a quick death. Today, it was screw that, I wanted to live.
Looking through one-slitted eye, Heavy pushed up from the chair and with the bottle dangling from his fingers his boots scraped the floor as he headed over to me.
Don't move, don't react.
Yet when he prodded my stomach with his booted foot, it took all my effort to stay still.
It didn't stop anything from hurting.
Heavy had a little fun with me last night, although he didn't hit half as hard as Scar. I wasn't sure I could take another beating from that man.
