Page 70 of Puck'N Enemy
Pete gestures toward the luxurious king-sized bed. “Lie down.”
Unable to follow his command, I freeze.
Pete’s smile fades. “Now!” he shouts.
Reluctantly, with all my strength draining away, I climb onto the bed. I slowly lie down, feeling the sharp, icy stab of fear in my chest.
Pete takes his time, looping the leather handcuffs around my wrists, making sure they’re tightly fitted. Next, he grabs the rope and ties my ankles. He’s careful and firm, making sure I can’t escape.
He finally stands back, admiring his work. “You look absolutely perfect,” he murmurs. Leaning down close, his breath hot on my face, he whispers, “I’ve waited years to have you like this… tied up and surrendered. You have no idea how many nights I imagined this.”
I shut my eyes, forcing my mind to stop thinking about Logan.
My quiet resistance doesn’t deter Pete one bit. He grabs the riding crop and lightly trails it along my chest. “Your skin is too white and flawless,” he says, sighing. “It should have some color and design, don’t you think?”
He suddenly strikes at me without warning.
The sharp crack of the leather on my skin is as loud as a thunder strike.
A searing line of pain blooms across my chest. I gasp while my back arches against the bed instinctively.
Before I’ve recovered, another strike follows. And then, another.
Dark red slashes appear on my pale skin, each one burning hotter than the last.
Pete stares at my naked body with a satisfied look on his face. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs.
My heart explodes from shame, unspent rage, and utter devastation. I don’t want to shed a tear and show my vulnerability to this monster I served when I was a kid.
I force myself to retreat to a cold, dark corner of my mind. I can’t let myself feel or I’ll be driven to the edge of insanity. It’s the only thing left for me to save while Pete snatches the last shred of my humanity.
But I fail to block out the feeling of Pete’s weight leaning over me, the press of his unwanted lips on my skin. My stomach lurches. I feel like I’ll throw up any second.
Suddenly, a loud chime echoes through the penthouse. Pete freezes, muttering a curse.
“Stay exactly where you are,” Pete orders sharply and moves away from me. He casts a lingering look at me that promises punishment. “Don’t even think about getting loose. You won’t like what happens if you do.”
With that, he strides out of the bedroom.
I lie on the bed, barely able to breathe while my body shivers uncontrollably.
Despite his warnings, I pull at the handcuffs desperately. The leather bites into my skin, unforgiving, keeping me chained to the headrest.
Hot tears fill my eyes and slide down my cheeks. “Logan… I’m sorry,” I sob, breaking down completely.
22
Logan
The hours that pass bleed into each other like a bad dream. I pace the floor of my dorm room, my heart pounding like it wants to burst out of my chest.
Mitchikov still hasn’t called me with any news. It’s almost torturous to wait and do nothing.
Dylan has been missing for more than twelve hours now. There’s no doubt in my mind that he’s trapped in Pete’s clutches or he’d have found a way to contact me.
The sudden loud ringing of my phone jolts me out of my thoughts. Grabbing it, I see that it’s Mitchikov.
A sliver of disappointment goes through me. I’d been hoping to hear from Dylan but deep within, I know it’s an impossible wish. Dylan’s no longer in a position to reach out to me for help.
