AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“There isn’t much we can do in terms of treatment, other than behavioral therapies. But if you’re suffering from things such as a lack of impulse control, fits of anger, lack of restraint, or irritability, this would very likely be the cause. And treatment would help.”
“I don’t,” I cross my arms over my chest, knowing it’s a lie, “have any of those issues.”
“Well, you’re quite lucky then.” He continues to go over the other symptoms for a few minutes before leaving me.
Grant, who was waiting just outside the door, reenters as he leaves.
“Cora.” I wince through her name as I struggle to sit myself up in the bed.
Grant shakes his head. “I went through the phone you gave to Abigail. She’s not at her home address. I tried to trace her phone from the number in your contacts, but it’s off. And unfortunately, with our phones scrubbing content every twelve hours, without more information from you, I really didn’t have much to go on.”
“I need to find her.” I swing my feet off the hospital bed, and I groan through the shooting pain in my side as I push myself to my feet. My legs wobble beneath me, and Grant catches me before I fall to the floor.
“Get your ass back in the bed, kid,” he demands in a fatherly tone. “There is absolutely nothing that you can do to find her that I can’t help you do from this hospital room. “Abigail is bringing my laptop. We’ll find her.”
We have to.
I don’t know what I’d do without her.
CHAPTER FORTY
CORA
Madame is a cruel fucking woman. She’s allowed me free roam of her home since the men brought me here, but she uses every opportunity she has to remind me how great I have it, and that my punishment for betraying her is coming.
My mind has literally been running wild with the things she can or might do to me.
Letting one of her goons beat me beyond recognition.
Killing me—even if she has repeatedly told me that’s not an option.
Selling me off.
She has a few international clients that would make Samuel look like a fucking teddy bear. Years of abuse and body mutilation make death seem like the better option.
Or maybe she’ll just let Adam loose.
He’s dying to make good on his threats from the car.
Sitting at the counter and sipping my coffee, I can feel him entering the room. It’s as if the air literally grows cold in his presence, making the feel of his eyes burning into my skin that much more noticeable. Goosebumps prickle over my skin as he approaches, not stopping until I can feel him pressed to my back. My heart pounds in my chest, and I try desperately to maintain my steady breathing.
I don’t want him to know that I’m afraid.
His knuckles drag down the back of my bare neck, and a chill runs down my spine as he whispers, “Alone at my last, my mouthy little bitch.”
“Hey,” the blond man who brought me here shakes his head from the entry at the other side of the large kitchen, “you know the boss has said she’s off-limits.”
“And she won’t fucking know if you don’t fucking tell her,” he barks as his hand begins sliding down the front of my loose tank top. “I’ll even hold her down to give you a chance to get your dick wet. Or you could fucking leave and mind your own fucking business.”
The blond pulls out a stool and defiantly takes a seat at the other side of the counter. I silently mouth the words, “thank you,” as Adam leans closer.
“Lock your doors at night, little bitch, because I will get you alone. And I will get what I want from you. What you fucking owe me,” he grits the words against my ear before pulling up a stool beside the blond. Leaning into him, he seethes, “And you’re going to fucking get what you deserve, too.”
Turning his attention back to me, Adam’s eyes roam over my body as he repeatedly slips his switchblade open and closed. Occasionally, he pauses to roll the open blade through his fingers and lick his lips before continually taunting me with the blade.
As much as I don’t want to sit here and allow him to continue to emotionally torment me, it’s safer than winding up anywhere with him alone.
“Good. You’re all here,” Madame chirps as she joins us in the kitchen. The heavy thud of a book hitting the countertop startles me, and I jump in my seat. She slides the book toward me, “I’ve heard you enjoy reading. Do you know this one?”
