This book is 18+ and contains graphic sexual content
"On the ground," Ace instructs, his voice steady and low. I gawk at him, my eyes bugging from their sockets.
"You're kidd-"
"Do as he says," Viper mutters into his glass. I catch a couple of glan...
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Wren
"It's like a breath of fresh air. I hate staring at your ugly mugs all day," the younger brown-eyed man, who I now know as Slash, says in front of me while digging into his food. I stare at my plate of eggs, my hands still bound but in my lap and lacking an appetite.
I don't dare say a word or even raise my eyes to look around me.
I don't enjoy being out here and find it odd that I have a longing inside me for my prison cell at the back of the house. At least there, I wasn't constantly gawked at by curious or predatory stares.
You'd think these men have never seen a woman with how they look at me.
"Come on, darlin'. Eat." I feel the nudge of a gun at my shoulder from someone behind me, a man who I don't know the name of and who also has a thick Scottish accent. I cringe, my teeth digging into the flesh of my lip and causing it to bleed. I taste the pennies that roll around my tongue as I narrow my gaze, not flinching. "'should be grateful we even let you outta there."
"Stop patronizing her," Ace says from where he sits in the corner of the room. His back faces us, and his mask rests on his knee, revealing the back of his tattooed neck. I see the smoke trail before him, leading me to believe he's smoking a cigarette. Soon, my suspicions are confirmed when the smell overpowers my eggs.
I would kill for one of those right now.
I never was much of a smoker before, really only in drunken social situations, but I crave the sweet inhale of nicotine now more than ever. Maybe it'll help calm my nerves and clear my head, but it's probably a lost cause. I don't think nicotine can help anyone in this situation feel calm.
"They would quit bugging you if you'd just eat, dollface," Ace drawls, his nickname for me making me cringe.
"I'm not hungry," I mutter, lifting my eyes toward Ace. He turns his head slightly, not enough to see his face, but enough to see the curve of his sharp cheekbones and the dark facial hair along his jaw.
"Are we going to have this conversation again?"
I go quiet, and that answers Ace's question. He turns his head forward and takes another pull from his cigarette.
"I'll eat if you let me have a drag of your cigarette," I offer, gauging his reaction. I see his shoulders shake with silent laughter.
The man behind me chuckles. "You gotta admire the balls on this lass," He says in his thick Scottish accent. Ace grabs the mask and pulls it over his head, standing and turning toward me. I watch as he saunters over, his eyes looking devilishly at me as he closes the distance between us. He stops before me, his stature towering over me, causing me to look up at him, his chin dipping and head tilting slightly, calculating.
