Page 146 of Wicked Sins

I fill my lungs with air. Then I fumble around above me until I find the door handle.

Hot, poisonous air billows over me when I push open the driver’s side door. I try to ignore it. I try to keep my fresh air inside my lungs.

They’re already complaining—hot and prickly and leaden—but I ignore that sensation as I scramble out of the seat. My knees hit the concrete floor so hard that I lose precious air in an ‘oomph’ that’s part pain, part surprise.

Then I drop to my belly and crawl as fast as I can. Only when the air caressing my face turns chilly, do I hazard a quick, shallow breath.

Fresh air.

I did it.

I scoot forward, and push up onto my knees as soon as my hands touch gravel. I’m still too weak to do more than crawl, but at least I’m breathing in regular O2 now.

Something catches my eye.

I lift my head, pausing as I pant in the cool night air.

Far above, a pair of windows bob and weave as I struggle to focus on them.

The study.

He’s in the fucking study.

Chapter Sixty-Two

Candy

The room dips and sways around me. He’s painting me with blood.Myblood. It seems to amuse him.

I laugh a little. He doesn’t even look up. He’s smearing that blood all over my pussy.

Is it worse that he’s absolutely fucking psychotic and not just a pedophile who likes molesting his stepdaughter?

It should be worse. It should be atrocious.

My mind stretches like taffy.

Will it break?

Maybe it has already; how would I know?

It’s better not to look at what he’s doing, but without that pill, I can feel everything anyway.

He’s licking my skin now.

I force myself to lie still and bear it. I can already move my legs, but can I run? I don’t think so.

I know there won’t be a second chance if I fuck this up.

“There,” he murmurs. “You ready for me, baby girl?”

In answer, I close my eyes.

Just a few more minutes, and you can run.

You can run and never stop.

Never—

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