Page 95 of Cruel Proposal
My head is spinning too much to get up. Not even the rain beginning to drizzle down is breathing new life into me.
I try to struggle to my feet—fuck, even to get off my back—but there's a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging me back down.
Aiden's foot lands in the center of my chest. "Where the fuck do you think you're going?"
"Fuck you." I swat at his hand, wishing I had some other weapon on me. A knife I could drive into his foot, for example.
I could cut his Achilles tendon.
The idea is appealing, but I don't have anything on me that would do the job, and right now the blood loss is making it feel like I can't even lift my hands off the rough pavement.
Aiden leans into the foot on my chest more.
Each breath feels ragged, my ribs aching beneath his boot. He's going to break ribs soon.
Summer was wrong. He's not going to keep me alive. Not when he could kill me now and be done with it.
He can take back the control I've taken from him. He can have all of New York, and he doesn't have to worry about anyone standing up against him again.
I feel sick.
At least Summer is going to be safe.
Aiden stares down at me, not saying a word, looking like he doesn't know what to do with me. He digs his heel in a little deeper. "This isn't the way I want this to happen."
So, she knows her brother.
Not that it matters. That dark cloud is back around my vision, and I feel like I can't hold on anymore.
The black edges get closer together as Aiden says something, but I can't make out the words. Not when it feels like I'm underwater.
I close my eyes, feeling like a thousand little men are hammering against the inside of my skull.
Summer doesn't see it yet, but once I'm gone, she will.
It's better for her this way.
\\\*
I shouldn't be alive right now.
That's the first thought I have when I wake up and look around the cell.
I'm on a bed. It's thin and lumpy, but it's better than the stone floor of being chained to the wall. Shackles are already hanging there. It'd be the perfect place to keep me.
With a groan, I sit up and scrub a hand over my face.
Everything hurts, but there's a bandage on my nose, holding it in place. As I trail my fingers over my face, I feel the bandages there, the little butterfly shapes keeping the cuts held together.
Why the hell would they stitch me up?
Unless Summer is right and Aiden's plan is to keep me here until I'm fully healed, and then he's going to start killing me.
And when he does, he's going to take his time with it. Payback for the torture I put him through. If he does even half of what Idid to him to me when I'm in this state, I'm going to die a hell of a lot sooner. It's not going to be satisfying.
There are some voices in the hallway, but I can't make out the words they're saying fully. If I had to guess, they're talking about me and what's going to happen to me.
The voices go quiet as I get up from the bed, the rickety springs of the metal frame squealing.
