Page 108 of Twisted Redemption

“What are you doing?”

I freeze at his voice behind me. My eyes narrow on him when I realize he doesn’t have his laptop or anything in his hands. But then I see his things on the coffee table.

“Just—uh, looking for my keys. I don’t remember where I put them.”

He’s in front of me in a second, taking my hand and tugging me back to the couch. Once I’m seated, he hands me my tea.

“Drink,” he says.

Why the hell is he so insistent that I drink this shit?

He wouldn’t—

Oh god. Oh fuck.

No. No, he wouldn’t.

Would he?

As my mind begins to spin out of control, my eyelids grow heavier. I blink back the tiredness, finally getting it—and realizing that, when it comes to David, I really am stupid.

Maybe I didn’t drink enough. Maybe it won’t put me under.

My hand moves to my thigh, but apparently David has the same thought I did. He grabs my head, tilting it back and forcing my jaw open. I try to fight him, but the drug has made me sluggish. He’s able to hold me down with one hand while he grabs the mug, sloshing the liquid into my mouth.

Before I can spit it out, he throws the mug to the ground and claps a hand over my mouth. Then he pinches my nose closed with his other hand.

“Swallow, or I won’t let you breathe.”

I try to scream at him, to shove him off of me, to grab my gun, but it’s no use. He presses me further into the cushions.

Only when black dots appear in my vision from a lack of oxygen do I finally swallow. It makes my ears feel weird.

David releases me, and I gasp in a breath. I stumble to my feet, getting away from him, going—going where?

And why isn’t David stopping me?

Another rush of drowsiness crashes over me, and my legs give out. I fall to the floor, my knees hitting the cold, hard tile of the kitchen.

I hear a laugh from somewhere. Icy. Dark. Belittling. “Stupid, stupid girl.” And then I’m being lifted off the ground, caged to a man I used to trust, and I can’t even fight. Can’t even scream.

The drug pulls me under, and I sag against him.

WHEN I WAKE, I’M on the couch, Angel curled up into my side. I try to sit up, but a wave of dizziness pulls me back to the cushions.

There’s a blurry figure sitting in a chair opposite me.

Where am I?

“B... Blaze?”

My vision clears. It’s not Blaze. It’s David. He looks up when I move, snapping the book in his hands shut. “Good. I was just beginning to worry that I gave you too much. Forgot how small you are.”

I groan, trying to sit up again. But I can’t get my hands apart. I raise them into my line of sight.

Tied together with rope.

“Wh...”

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