Bullet's Riley: Ruthless Renegades Kat Cameron (reading the story of the txt) đź“–
- Author: Kat Cameron
Book online «Bullet's Riley: Ruthless Renegades Kat Cameron (reading the story of the txt) 📖». Author Kat Cameron
“When I first thought to kidnap you, I never intended for it to turn out like this. I have been watching him hover over you like you were some damn prized possession, and thought you needed help to break free of his overbearing protection, just like I did. Wouldn’t you know it, you actually liked it. What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you want to be free? I could give you that freedom.”
The only thing I got from that was he had been watching us. How? It wasn’t like we had been out that much. Did that mean he had someone in the clubhouse keeping tabs on us? Was there someone else we didn’t know about? Fuck. Was it Rubble? I didn’t know any other way out of this, unless I could play along and he would go with it. That could be dangerous, but what the hell? It couldn’t fucking hurt, I guess.
“You know what? Now that you put it like that, it makes sense. I guess I didn’t see it before. I didn’t realize how trapped he made me feel. Shit. Maybe that was why I have been feeling so depressed lately.” I had to play this right or he would see right through the act. He whipped around so fast I thought his neck had broken with the snap it made.
“You’re serious? Even with what I did last night, you are okay with me?” His face had the look of half shock and half suspicion with a dose of hope. I felt fucking terrible for doing it this way. There was nothing more I hated than being mean or rude to someone that didn’t deserve it. Did he fuck up and hurt me terribly? Yeah. But I don’t think he even realized how sick he was.
I nodded to answer his question and put my hand out to him. Shit, this was going to be terribly fucking hard to play along, but it was the only way I could see out of this. He took a few steps to get to my bed and took my hand. His hand was clammy and rough. Palming the side of my face with the other hand, he said, “My beautiful, Riley. We will be free together. I promise no one will ever again keep us locked away from living our lives.” He pulled me up so quickly that some of the stitches he put in my back pulled and I could feel the blood dripping down slowly. Shit, that fucking hurt but I kept the grimace in. To my sweetest relief, he opened the door and pulled me out into what looked like a living room. “You go sit on the couch and watch some TV. I am going to whip something up for us to celebrate.”
Doing what he told me to, I sat on the couch but only just. My back was literally screaming at me to just end it. My whole body was aching at the feel of the pain scorching through me. Looking around to distract me I noticed the walls were painted a color that might have been called light coffee brown but the paint was faded and chipped. The carpet was an ugly brown thing that looked like it needed to be ripped up.
Deciding I needed to do something about the blood running down my back, I followed the sound of the pans clinking. On my journey, I noticed there were pictures on the walls in the hallway. What stopped me and had my blood running cold were that these pictures weren’t just of any family. No. They were of Axel’s family. Him, his twin, and their parents. Their father did not look happy by any means. There was something dark behind those eyes and considering Axel had yet to tell me his story, or why he never mentioned any family, it didn’t look like he had a good childhood.
Their mother, however, was a different story. She looked at her boys like they were her life. Her eyes were shining with happiness but looking closer at the picture, you could see the bruise mark peeking out from underneath the collar of her shirt. It was almost as if her boys were her world and nothing could take her happiness away from her, as long as they were around. Not even an abusive, piece of shit husband.
Looking at the rest of the pictures, I saw some of them were of the boys in their school pictures. There were multiple photos but the ones that stood out the most were the ones with their names in the corner of the pictures. Finally, I had a name for this son of a bitch. At that same realization, I had the sudden sense that this was their childhood home. I didn’t know why, but it
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