Pretty Little Fears (Blackwood University Book 1) by SJ Ryder

Author:SJ Ryder [Ryder, SJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SJ Ryder Publishing
Published: 2024-08-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

EMMETT

My eyes bat open and immediately I notice two things.

1. My head hurts like a fucking bitch.

2. I'm in a basement.

Where? Well, I’d like to fucking know, too.

My eyes strain, adjusting to the darkness of the room. Besides the faint glow from a flashing bulb hanging from the ceiling, the room is plunged in darkness and covered in shadows. I attempt to stand when my arm is yanked back.

Motherfucker.

That’s really fucking inconvenient.

Looking down at my right arm, a cuff is secured to my wrist and connected to a chain that’s embedded into the damn wall. You have got to be fucking kidding me.

There is a metal slab on the wall with a single loop attached to it. Connected to the metal hook are thick iron rings that make up the chain currently securing me in place to this goddamn wall. I grab the hook on the wall to test its strength when my fingers are met with wetness. Huh.

I drag my gaze upward to the droplets of water that are forming on the ceiling and running down the wall to the chain. Water splatters against the metal, dripping down on it. The metallic smell fills my nostrils. It omits a blood-like smell, but I assume it's the oxidized chain from the leaking liquid and not actual blood that has stained the floors of this cinderblock room.

“Fuck.” I grunt while standing up. Pacing along the wall, I go as far as the chains will allow. Panic begins to enter my bloodstream at the reminder that someone has my little obsession. Someone has my girl and terrifying thoughts flood my mind with the dangers she could potentially be faced with if I don’t find her as soon as possible. Running my hand through my hair, for the second time in my life I feel fear.

Absolute fucking fear.

The first and only time I experienced fear was as a helpless child who couldn't protect his mother or himself because of a lack of knowledge. Lack of strength. The only difference now is that I can't protect her because they’re afraid of me. Good, they fucking should be. Each and every person involved will meet their maker at the hands of me and only me.

“Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!” I slam my fist against the cinderblock wall that’s housing the chain, keeping me away from my little obsession.

The solid cement against my knuckles sends a shooting pain up my arm but I don't care. I need to feel it. In fact, I welcome it. The physical ache is nothing compared to the feeling of my soul being ripped into a million pieces. The splintering segments of my heart impale themselves into me and remind me of the fact that I failed her. I failed to keep her safe. I punch again and again, harder each time, making my knuckles split back open. My blood splatters against the wall.

The sign of a crack has me pausing before I break my hand against the wall. My breathing

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