Killing Snow by Maree Rose EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Maree Rose
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.9 MB
- Price: Free
Everly
He’s drunk again. I can already hear it in the heavy, uneven footsteps as
he returns to the cabin, the sound reverberating through the wooden
walls like a menacing drumbeat.
Is he drunk enough to keep his hands to himself? That’s the million-dollar
question, though if I had a million dollars, I certainly wouldn’t fucking be
here, chained by my ankle to this grim reality..
There’s always a fine line that dictates how he’ll assault me when he’s
drunk. I can only hope he is too drunk to get it up, which means the abuse
would only be physical and not sexual.
For the past few months, I’ve been granted a reprieve. And now being
dragged away to this secluded cabin surrounded by nothing but trees and
snow seems to provide him with a little peace of mind. After all, there’s no
one here for me to befriend.
Or for me to spread my legs for, like the slut he claims I am.
The truth is, after he raped me a few times, I tried to reclaim some
semblance of power, mentally and over my own body. He somehow knew
exactly where I was and dragged me physically from the guy’s bed, back to
his dark world of control.
There was a time, though, a brief, shining moment, when I knew what it
felt like to enjoy sex. But that moment of bliss was quickly shattered,
replaced by the suffocating grip of captivity.
It is the last time I knew what it felt like to be free.
Ever since then, when I’m not chained to the steel hook he installed in my
room, I’m relegated to serving him—cooking his meals, cleaning the house
—under his dark, watchful gaze. He even ripped away my chance at
education, withdrawing me from college. Not that he ever allowed me to
return to campus, but seeing the confirmation of my withdrawal on his desk
was a cruel reminder of the life he’s stolen from me.
I flinch as the door creaks open, announcing his return. The pungent
stench of alcohol precedes him, filling the room with its sickly-sweet odor.
He stumbles in, his words slurred in a drunken, incomprehensible ramble. I
keep my eyes fixed on the floor, not daring to make eye contact. No matter
if he is drunk or sober, making eye contact is an act of defiance in his eyes.
Fumbling with the keys, he eventually unlocks the chain binding me to
the steel hook in the corner of the room. The metallic clink of the chain
hitting the floor offers a fleeting sense of relief. Maybe tonight will be
different. Maybe he’s too drunk to do more than inflict physical pain.
But my relief is short-lived as he grabs my arm roughly, dragging me out
of the dimly lit room and into the narrow corridor. His grip is like a vice, his
fingers digging into my skin, leaving behind painful bruises. The cold floor
beneath my bare feet sends shivers up my spine as I struggle to keep pace
with him.
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