Fight for Her#3 Read Online Free PDF
Author: JJ Knight
hide what they feel, like I did with the last guy I dated.
But I don’t want to hide. I want to feel the things I’m moved to feel.
But maybe because of this, I end up in situations like this one. Surrounded by men who lead lives that aren’t normal, but are violent and unpredictable and dangerous.
Maybe I was right to leave him in the first place.
I’ve totally come down from the sex high now. I pull away from Parker and sit on the floor. My dress is in shambles. I can’t see it, but I know. I push up the bodice as best I can with tied-up wrists, feeling shame for having him tear it.
“Maybe we should find something to cut me free,” I say. As my body settles, I’m feeling a thousand piercing pains. My hands are hot balloons. The agony can no longer be ignored.
Parker turns on his phone to use it as a flashlight. The room isn’t empty. There’s metal shelving and a rusty desk with a broken chair.
He gets up to open and close the desk drawers. “All empty here,” he says.
I glance down and grimace at the drooping bodice. “Can you at least tie the strings together?”
Parker comes back over. He takes the two parts of the dress strap and ties a knot. That side is too high now, but at least I’m covered. “Let’s see if we can find another room with something sharp,” he says.
“Aren’t we supposed to stay here?” Fear of running into the fighter group flashes through me.
He hesitates. “We can. It’s up to you.”
My hands throb. I’m not sure I can take it. “No, let’s try another room.”
He opens the door to the hall. “It’s all clear,” he says.
We step tentatively away. As we leave the safety of the locked door, I am anxious to get this tape off, to be less vulnerable.
Parker hurries ahead, checking doors. They are all locked, just as when the others looked for us.
“How did you get in that room?” I ask. “Was it the only one unlocked?”
“Jax opened it,” Parker says. “He had some sort of magnetic gizmo.”
“Really? Like 007?”
He laughs. “Sort of like that.”
We continue down the hall, checking doors with no luck.
“There were supplies in the van,” I say.
“You really want to go back out there?” Parker asks.
“No.”
He turns to me. The yellowish light overhead makes him look oddly colored.
“Let me see if I can do anything with it.” He pulls at the tape.
“Maybe just unroll it, the same as she put it on.”
He tries to find the end, lifting my arms to find a corner to start with. “Got it,” he says. He loosens the edge and begins the process of pulling the tape away.
I don’t like where we’re standing, just out in the hall. Anyone can walk up. “Can we find someplace more hidden?” I ask.
He looks around. “Let’s see if that bigger room is open.”
We head toward a door with windows down either side. We can see a vast cavernous room. He tries the door. Locked.
“Maybe farther down there is a little inset or a short hall,” I say.
As we walk, I grab the loose end of the tape and pull at it with my teeth.
Sure enough, there’s a recessed door with “Janitorial” painted in small fading letters. Parker tries the door, and it opens.
So much better. We slip inside. Parker flips on the light and closes the door. He looks around and finds an old push broom with a wide ragged fuzzy bottom. He shoves it against the base of the door to block the light from leaking out into the hall.
I’ve gone as far as I can pulling tape with my teeth. Parker begins unraveling it again, but I spot a pair of hedge shears on a high shelf. “Up there.”
Parker reaches for them. I hold very still as he snips the edge of the tape with the tips. As it opens up, I can separate my wrists, and eventually, the tape pulls apart.
I feel instant relief. Parker tugs the tape away and lets it fall to the floor. He massages my hands until they are less purple. “Can you move your fingers?”
I bend them slightly, although the swelling makes it
But I don’t want to hide. I want to feel the things I’m moved to feel.
But maybe because of this, I end up in situations like this one. Surrounded by men who lead lives that aren’t normal, but are violent and unpredictable and dangerous.
Maybe I was right to leave him in the first place.
I’ve totally come down from the sex high now. I pull away from Parker and sit on the floor. My dress is in shambles. I can’t see it, but I know. I push up the bodice as best I can with tied-up wrists, feeling shame for having him tear it.
“Maybe we should find something to cut me free,” I say. As my body settles, I’m feeling a thousand piercing pains. My hands are hot balloons. The agony can no longer be ignored.
Parker turns on his phone to use it as a flashlight. The room isn’t empty. There’s metal shelving and a rusty desk with a broken chair.
He gets up to open and close the desk drawers. “All empty here,” he says.
I glance down and grimace at the drooping bodice. “Can you at least tie the strings together?”
Parker comes back over. He takes the two parts of the dress strap and ties a knot. That side is too high now, but at least I’m covered. “Let’s see if we can find another room with something sharp,” he says.
“Aren’t we supposed to stay here?” Fear of running into the fighter group flashes through me.
He hesitates. “We can. It’s up to you.”
My hands throb. I’m not sure I can take it. “No, let’s try another room.”
He opens the door to the hall. “It’s all clear,” he says.
We step tentatively away. As we leave the safety of the locked door, I am anxious to get this tape off, to be less vulnerable.
Parker hurries ahead, checking doors. They are all locked, just as when the others looked for us.
“How did you get in that room?” I ask. “Was it the only one unlocked?”
“Jax opened it,” Parker says. “He had some sort of magnetic gizmo.”
“Really? Like 007?”
He laughs. “Sort of like that.”
We continue down the hall, checking doors with no luck.
“There were supplies in the van,” I say.
“You really want to go back out there?” Parker asks.
“No.”
He turns to me. The yellowish light overhead makes him look oddly colored.
“Let me see if I can do anything with it.” He pulls at the tape.
“Maybe just unroll it, the same as she put it on.”
He tries to find the end, lifting my arms to find a corner to start with. “Got it,” he says. He loosens the edge and begins the process of pulling the tape away.
I don’t like where we’re standing, just out in the hall. Anyone can walk up. “Can we find someplace more hidden?” I ask.
He looks around. “Let’s see if that bigger room is open.”
We head toward a door with windows down either side. We can see a vast cavernous room. He tries the door. Locked.
“Maybe farther down there is a little inset or a short hall,” I say.
As we walk, I grab the loose end of the tape and pull at it with my teeth.
Sure enough, there’s a recessed door with “Janitorial” painted in small fading letters. Parker tries the door, and it opens.
So much better. We slip inside. Parker flips on the light and closes the door. He looks around and finds an old push broom with a wide ragged fuzzy bottom. He shoves it against the base of the door to block the light from leaking out into the hall.
I’ve gone as far as I can pulling tape with my teeth. Parker begins unraveling it again, but I spot a pair of hedge shears on a high shelf. “Up there.”
Parker reaches for them. I hold very still as he snips the edge of the tape with the tips. As it opens up, I can separate my wrists, and eventually, the tape pulls apart.
I feel instant relief. Parker tugs the tape away and lets it fall to the floor. He massages my hands until they are less purple. “Can you move your fingers?”
I bend them slightly, although the swelling makes it