*** Second Book of the Release Me Series. Do not read if you have not read the first book. Also this blurb contains spoilers, so do not read the blurb if you don't want to spoil the first book. I repeat do not read.***
Promises are meant to broken...
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Heylo! To all those who have stuck with me through the first book and still want to read the second book I send out my deepest love to all of you. I hope you enjoy this book as much as you liked the first book! All votes and comments are welcome as well :) If you have not read "Release Me" then you will understand nothing while reading this book! This book will be updated every Friday and after I finish this book it will be edited like the last one, so I repeat this book is NOT edited so read at your own risk. That being saidDO NOT LEAVE COMMENTS THAT CRITICIZE ALMOST EVERY MISTAKE! I am not trying to be rude, but it is very annoying and rude to me that people do that.
Now with all that out of the way I proudly present to you the first chapter of "Breaking Free"!
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"The world breaks everyone, and afterward, some are strong at the broken places."
- Ernest Hemingway
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Thea
December 1, 2016
Île Sainte-Marguerite Island
My legs scratch against the cold metal as I crawl through the air duct. Time seems to stop as I try and get away from hell. My breathing is becoming difficult and I feel like letting my hands collapse so I do not have to endure this pain anymore but I don't. I push my body forward even when it pushes me back. I have to get out of here or I think I might lose my sanity if I don't.
After a few hours or maybe a few minutes I see an opening ahead causing me to do a happy dance in my head. As I am blinded by my happiness I set one hand down and my whole body falls through the tile. My ass lands on the cold cemented floor and I let out a groan.
I was so damn close.
Slowly I get up and look up at my escape plan that seems to be falling apart. I jump as high as I could and my hands touch the edge of the air duct but I end up slipping and falling on my ass again. Trying again I get the same results about ten more times. After my eleventh try, I lay on the dirty jail floor trying not to scream from frustration.
"Given up yet Shorty."
A deep accented voice cuts through my thoughts and makes me spring up from the floor. I turn my body around preparing myself to fight if necessary. Sitting on the bed is a guy around his twenties. He is leaning against the wall with his hands crossed behind his head and his legs extended out on the bed. He has a stubble beard growing out which means that he has been here for quite some time but what really caught my eyes is his silver eyes.
He looks at me and raises his eyebrows at my fighting position.
"I don't fight girls Shorty," he says with an amused expression on his face.
