Filthy Wicked Games by Lili Valente

Author:Lili Valente [Valente, Lili]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Suspense
ISBN: 2940150788633
Google: J3rGCgAAQBAJ
Amazon: B016YIRXLK
Barnesnoble: B016YIRXLK
Goodreads: 27431619
Publisher: Lili Valente
Published: 2015-12-03T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Harley

Everything happened in slow motion.

Harley watched her fingers curling around the heavy rock in half time, lived the moment it took for her to swing the lichen-covered stone over her head for a hundred frantic beats of her heart, and felt the clench of her gut as she reversed direction—slamming her makeshift weapon down at a slight angle—for so long it felt like her abdominal muscles were going to pinch in two and squeeze the life out of her.

And then the rock hit Clay’s head, a gush of blood burst from the pierced skin at the base of his skull, and time jerked back to normal speed.

Harley cried out as he collapsed, splashing into the pool just ahead of her. Water sprayed into her face and the waves caused by his collapse rocked against her thighs, but Clay didn’t jump back to his feet, prepared to take his revenge. He remained facedown in the water, his long arms trailing down to brush the smooth pebbles beneath the surface, his torso rocking gently as the pool rediscovered peace, clearly not overly disturbed by a murder being committed near its banks.

“Shit,” Harley whispered, the stone splashing back into the water as her hands began to shake. “Shit!”

He was going to drown. He was going to drown and die. He might still die—she hadn’t intended to kill him, just knock him out, but clearly she’d hit him harder than she’d intended—but unless she got him out of the water, death was a foregone conclusion.

She probably shouldn’t care that the man who’d tortured her for two weeks was about to die, but his taste was still in her mouth and her body still ached desperately for his touch, and she did care.

Damn her, she did. She didn’t want to be a killer and she especially didn’t want to kill Clay.

She’d already lived with his blood on her hands for years. No matter how demented a bastard he’d become, she didn’t want to live that way anymore.

Bending down, she flipped Clay over onto his back, heart jerking when he coughed and water streamed from his nose and mouth. She froze, ready to drop him and run, but after the coughing had stopped, his eyes remained closed, and after a moment, his breath grew slow and even. Pulse still thready from a dizzying mixture of fear and adrenaline, Harley quickly towed him to the edge of the pool. As the water grew shallow, moving him grew harder, but she managed to hook her arms beneath his armpits and drag his heavy body over the stones and onto the grass at the edge of the pool.

She deposited him as gently as she could and stood staring down at his naked, unconscious form for a shock-numbed moment. And then she turned and ran like hell.

She stopped to scoop her tee shirt and Clay’s boxers off of the ground, but she didn’t bother with the misery-inducing boots or take the time to dress. Now that she’d made sure Clay wasn’t going to drown, she couldn’t afford to waste a second.

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