Page 7 of Hell on Wheels

I descended into the dark, trying not to focus on the absence of light, the cold wood, or my lack of clothing. My feet moved slowly away as he shut the door, enclosing me in the silent cellar he converted into a dirt cell.

I had to be careful where I placed my steps. This dungeon held secrets, the unfulfilled wishes, and the desperate pleas of women who displeased him. Their souls probably still lingered. Maybe that was why I heard screams late at night. The wails and moaning that woke me in the early hours before dawn on many occasions.

Sometimes, I saw blood splattered on Angel’s clothing and tightly closed my eyes, hoping he didn’t come for me when the sick desires took hold of his depraved mind.

Now, I was at his mercy.

Alone. Naked. Surrounded by dirt walls.

And only the bones of his victims to keep me company.

Chapter 3

Present time—

Fuck. I hated bullies.

Men that hurt women? Hated them even more.

The asshole yanked the young woman roughly to her feet and grabbed the collar of her denim jacket, nearly choking off her airway as her hands rose to her throat, clutching at the material. He spun her around, lifted his foot, and kicked her hard in the ass as she cried out.

Boot straight into her bottom. Hard.

Fuck. I knew that had to hurt.

She winced, trying to spin around, but he shoved her with a palm to her back, almost knocking her down a second time.

Oh, he was gonna regret that.

“Move it, you little bitch. I’ve had enough of your shit today.”

She wasn’t able to respond as she coughed and gasped, dragging air into her lungs. I could see the red marks on her throat.

Tears filled her eyes, hovering at the brim before a few slipped down her cheeks. Struggling to get out of his hold as he grabbed her upper arm, she tried to walk on her own as he manhandled her. She’d already been dragged along the sidewalk several feet when they both noticed my presence.

“Let go of the girl,” I commanded softly, standing my ground.

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