I chuckle. “Let the games begin.”
Descend deeper into the dark and twisted Broken Bonds world with Sadie and Colton as they hunt down a sadistic serial killer in WITH VISIONS OF RED, the first book in the Broken Bonds serial. Get it FREE here:
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Sample Chapter: With Visions of Red
Prologue: Sadie
The stench of rotting meat permeates the cool, dank air of the basement. A rotating air purifier in the corner does nothing for the smell, only blasts my sweat-slicked skin with a chilly, stale breeze, causing gooseflesh to rise along my exposed skin.
My pink tank top clings to my body, saturated with old and new sweat, dirt and filth. My legs remain bare—my boy-shorts the only guard against the elements…and him.
I nudge the plate of uneaten food aside with my knee, my shackles rattling from above. The chains tighten, and I wince at the sharp, pinching pain. A whimper escapes my mouth.
My arms stopped aching hours ago—my muscles numb. If I stand, the feeling will come alive with unbearable agony. My calves still burn from the stretching. I no longer feel my toes, either. I wriggle them, trying to force circulation into my feet and legs, the cold cement floor fighting back against my attempt.
Three days. Five. A week? With no windows, no light from outside, there’s no way to be sure. Time doesn’t pass down here; it stalled and the world quit spinning the moment he touched me. Invaded me. And I stopped existing.
I’ve tried to measure my time trapped in this dungeon by his comings and goings—but they’re too sporadic. Sometimes I’m left alone for so long, I fear he’s forgotten about me. Then I’m sickened by the realization that I actually fear he won’t return.
Twisted.
At first, I screamed. I screamed for hours until my throat burned and my voice gave. He never covered my mouth. So the only thing I know for sure is that I’m somewhere far enough away where he doesn’t worry about me being heard. No. He likes my screams. That’s the first thing I learned. Then I learned to hold them in. Not to encourage him.
My body ices over with dread as my gaze swings to the cross.
I made the mistake of demanding to know what it was used for…having spent hours staring at it, fearing it…and then he showed me.
Not today. Please, not today. A hot tear trickles down my cheek, and I wipe the side of my face against my arm. He can’t see me broken. Because when he knows I’m broken—when he’s mastered me—I’ll be of no more use.
I pull at my memories, try to find a sanctuary.
So stupid. So, so stupid. My lips tremble as I recount my actions that brought me here. That dumb fight with Brandon, the one where I slammed his car door and stormed off—I can hardly remember why I was so angry.
He was texting some other girl. That was it. Then it blew up from there. Accusations and claims that I’m crazy. Girls are always the crazy ones. We never actually see what’s right before our eyes.
Furious, I walked off on my own, desperate to be away from him and empowered by the right to be a strong, independent woman who didn’t need her cheating boyfriend to drive her home. Damn if I wouldn’t walk myself right there. Then—
The night swallowed me.
And I’ve been engulfed, surrounded by its darkness ever since. I now know what evil lurks where even the light is afraid to shine.
A thump from above hitches my breathing.
Oh, God. I want the fear back. I wish my limbs would quake—that my body would shrivel up and my mind would space. I’ve moved past that fight or flight adrenaline rush, though. I’ve moved on to acceptance. And I want his touch to kill me.
I just want this to end.
As his footsteps travel down the steps, echoing against the cement walls, I decide I’m broken. Just let him see me break. That’s all he wants, then the torment will end.
And when I meet his intense gray eyes—no mask to protect his features—I know. This is my end. He’s no longer concerned about my escape, or someone finding me. I’ll never be able to utter his likeness to a soul.