All Bets Are Off (Deadly Games at BSU Book 1) by Samantha Bee & G. N. Wright

Author:Samantha Bee & G. N. Wright [Bee, Samantha & Wright, G. N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-07-29T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

The sun hasn’t even risen as I leave the room. I laid in the dark, too scared to sleep for hours on end after Carson finally calmed down and collapsed into bed, spent and relaxed. I didn’t want to stay but I knew I wouldn’t be able to survive his anger once more.

The loud laughter that drowned out my groans of pains last night, the thumping music that masked the pounding of my body against the wall are all silent now. It’s eerily quiet in the early hours of the morning as I carefully creep down the stairs. Desperate for no one to catch me on this particular walk of shame.

I can only imagine what a fright I must look after all the crying last night. If I ever thought Carson would be swayed by my tears I learned just how wrong I was. My whole body aches as I try to move along the stairs without making any noise.

I wish I could just run, but I know I don’t have the strength. Not after everything I had to endure. The whiskey didn’t help as much as I hoped it would, but it has definitely added to the maddening pulsing of my head this morning. I can barely see straight with the way my headache wracks my body.

Most people will be suffering the after effects of last night and wanting to stay in bed to sleep it off. I couldn’t stay in that bed any longer, I felt like I was suffocating, like if I stayed there one more minute I was going to choke on my own shame.

I don’t even want to think about what Carson would demand if I stayed and waited for him to wake up this morning. He was so angry last night. So pissed. And he took it all out on me. I was worried about how far he would take it. I didn’t know what to expect. Part of me is relieved that he didn’t touch me. Not there anyway.

He was more violent than possessive. Raining blows down over my body as he sneered in my face about the guys. I never truly realized just how much he hated them. I paid for every ounce of that hatred last night. Paid in an array of what I’m sure will be brightly colored splotches all over my arms, ribs, back, and who knows where else. I think the only place I don’t have fresh bruises is my face.

But at least he didn’t touch me.

I shiver and attempt to wrap my arms around my waist as the morning chill bites into my exposed skin but the pain that radiates through my body damn near knocks me breathless. My steps falter and I freeze in place trying to take shallow breaths through my nose that don’t expand my rib cage.

Fuck. I think he may have cracked some ribs when he kicked my sides after I fell to the ground. I’ve never felt more used and broken than I did in that moment.

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