Broken Angel by Amanda Jones

Author:Amanda Jones [Jones, Amanda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978160394
Amazon: B071Z8L9VN
Publisher: New Concepts Publishing
Published: 2017-06-29T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Bataryal

He was losing his mind. He knew it, but there didn’t seem to be anything he could do to stop it. He’d been left alone for what seemed like eternity. Intellectually, he knew it wasn’t that long, but his mind was playing tricks on him, and it was getting hard to distinguish between fantasy and reality. He saw the images of his friends on the magic screen Keir had left him, but the silence had given way to a soundtrack of screams from his past, and what seemed like a dubbed voice-over of conversations from the present. He watched his friends, but heard past conversations, new conversations about letting him rot in hell, and Mara talking about how weak he was and what a loser he was. Part of him knew that none of this was real, but the longer it went on, the more real it became. When he’d first been left alone, he had struggled against his bonds in a weak attempt to free himself. He knew the Wolframite was unbreakable and there was nothing he could do to get out of this on his own. Yet again he was too weak to save himself.

B’s heart shredded as he watched his doppelgänger make out with Mara. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, and here was the freaking shape shifter jamming his tongue down her throat. This evil son-of-a-bitch was out-B-ing him. He dropped his head back down to his knees and hoped that maybe if he folded himself up as tightly as possible he might be able to disappear. Disappearing would be better than to lose his mind and have his friends find him chained to the wall in Keir’s basement as a drooling mess. His captor knew exactly how to push his buttons. He wasn’t being beaten or abused; the simple fact that he was chained and unable to leave this place was enough to put him into a tailspin.

The clicking of high heels coming down the basement stairs caught B’s ear. He lifted his head up to see what fresh new hell his brain was concocting for him. His eyes connected with a pair of blood red sky-high designer shoes. His eyes travelled up a pair of long, pale, toned legs that disappeared under a skin-tight, black body-con dress. Blond ringlets cascaded down to cover what must have been a fabulous set of boobs, an elegant neck, delicate features, and beautiful cornflower blue eyes. Oh Shit.

“Do you like the dress? It’s new.” Nyx gave B a saucy wink. “I think it does wonders for my tits.” She grasped her boobs and gave them a good lift and squeeze.

“Are you real?” B asked, squinting at her.

He didn’t see it coming, but his head whipped to the side, his neck cracking and his cheek was on fire. B lifted his manacled arm to put pressure on his quickly-swelling face.

“Was that real enough for you, sweet cheeks?” the woman said with a saccharine smile.

“Ouch.” B cracked his jaw back into position.

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