Vicious Prince (Violent Kingdom Book 1) by Lili St. Germain

Author:Lili St. Germain [St. Germain, Lili]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-05-28T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

AVERY

I slowly come to, and then I’m awake all at once. Awake, alone, and completely blind.

Is the bag still over my head? I wriggle around a little, trying to figure out where I am, where my limbs have gone, why I’m so slow to piece together my thoughts.

Drugs. I remember the sharp pain of a needle jabbing in to my arm, the burn that spread through my veins once whatever I was injected with began to move through my body like wildfire.

Somebody gave me something.

It knocked me the fuck out. Everything buzzed, and then shorted out. I have no idea how long I’ve been unconscious. Where was I? What was I doing? What was being done to me?

My thoughts are soggy, heavy, weighted down by the drugs. I tug at my arms again. Where are my goddamn arms? More feeling comes to me, in tiny increments.

I’m on a chair.

Wait. I’m tied to the chair.

I try to twist my wrists out of whatever bindings they’re in, and I feel the tiny hairs on my arms protest.

Tape. Whoever it was used tape.

Where are my legs? I can’t feel them. There’s only a numb buzz below my waist. I concentrate as much as I can through my haze, straining at the same time to hear anything that might indicate where I am, and if there’s anyone else near me.

Where. Am I?

Then it comes rushing in, like ice water has been poured over me. They shot my father. A single gunshot that cracked everything apart. My father, in his tuxedo, dropping his whiskey on hard tiles, the glass exploding at his feet as blood blossomed across his white dress shirt. His trajectory into the pool, the heavy splash of his dead weight as five hundred people in ballgowns and designer suits screamed and scattered, nobody wanting to be gunshot victim number two. My desire to jump into the water after my uncle, to help him save my dad. The hands that clamped around my arms hard enough to cause bruises, as Joshua and my own personal security team whisked me away, to supposed safety, and straight into a trap.

Somebody shot my father just so they could take me. As a diversion. And they didn’t fuck around. I saw where they shot him — right in the middle of his chest.

Is he even alive to know that I’ve been stolen away?

“What do you want?” I finally ask the darkness that presses against every edge of me. My throat hurts when I speak, thirst piercing my voice and turning it into a rasp. How long have I been here?

Where is here?

My blindfold is thick, but soft, like silk. Maybe several layers of silk.

“My family will pay whatever ransom you want,” I say.

“Just tell them what you want. They’ll give it to you.”

I don’t even know if there is anyone with me.

Anyone watching me.

I could be buried alive, or in somebody’s attic, or in my own fucking house. I can’t see. I don’t know.

Fear continues to drip into my veins like poison.

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