Snow White & The Biker by Glenna Maynard

Author:Glenna Maynard [Maynard, Glenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-21T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 11

—Sybil

My head pounds. My pulse hammering against my temples. Blinking my eyes, I struggle to sit up. I glance around the dark room unable to remember where I am. I can’t make out my surroundings. It’s too dark. My throat is dry like it’s stuffed full of cotton. Swallowing is nearly painful. My tongue feels bumpy and rough. I lick my teeth then my lips.

My sight begins to adjust to the darkness. My memory is hazy, but I know I’m not where I last was. I was with him…Diego in that fucking hole. The man who betrayed me. The man who broke my heart.

The phantom sensation of bugs crawling over my skin sends a shiver through me.

The moment those words left his lips, “You were right…,” my heart cracked in two. God, he had me fooled. Jesus was right. Men like Diego uses girls like me up and tosses us away. Jesus is no better, he is still worse in my eyes. I think I hate them both.

I scoot to the edge of the bed and it’s this moment when I realize something is wrong with my hand? I flex it and the bandage wrinkles with the movement. Why the hell is my hand wrapped? Why is it hurting so damn bad? A throbbing pain is pulsing so bad I can feel it all the way in my toes. Bile rushes up my esophagus. Half of my pinky finger is gone. My stomach lurches and sweat drips down my back. Chill bumps fan over my body as I retch and dry heave. There is nothing on my stomach to expel.

I don’t understand. Spit dribbles down my chin, and I grip the sheet and wipe at my face. Did he do this to me? Did Diego knock me out and cut off part of my finger? My head spins and I fall back on the bed with a million questions and emotions dancing in my head.

“I need you to trust me, Princessa…” his voice rings in my ears. A sinking feeling settles in my gut and my tears fall.

I trusted him.

I fucked him.

He fucked me in more ways than I thought possible.

His betrayal shouldn’t hurt so greatly but it does. It’s like hot coals being raked over my body.

My only question is why aren’t I dead yet? If he was sent to kill me why hasn’t he? Hope blooms in my chest, but I squash that emotion down.

A door opens and light spills into the room. My temples throb once more and my heart pounds in my chest. “You’re awake,” Diego’s gritty voice washes over me and my stomach tightens.

“Go to hell,” I rasp as more tears blind my vision. My hand is killing me and it’s hard to focus on anything but the ache I feel where the other half of my pinky used to be. “How much?” He takes a step closer. “How much!” I cry, holding my hand where my finger should be. “How much did my stepmother pay you?”

“Nothing.

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