Chapter 306
A harsh, raspy laugh scraped out of Steve’s throat. “Winnie’s waist is so soft. You have no idea how beautiful she was once the drug kicked in. When I had her under me, I almost wanted to give her everything p>
Suddenly, a large hand clamped down on the back of his neck and yanked him off the bed.
Caught off guard, Steve looked up and met a pair of icy black eyes. For a split second, it felt like he was looking at the same man who had nearly beaten him to death that night.
The thought had barely crossed his mind before Chris dragged him down and slammed him hard onto the floor.
Bang.
Steve was already numb from the pain of multiple broken bones, but this impact sent fresh cracks of agony through him. Then a polished dress shoe came down on his trembling fingers.
“And you think you were worthy of touching her?” Chris said, grinding his foot down on the back of Steve’s hand.
At some point, the guard outside the iron door had disappeared. The room, the hallway outside, even the entire corridor, had gone so silent you could hear a pin drop.
Chris looked down at Steve from above and crushed the bones in his hand under his shoe as if he were looking at nothing more than an insect.
“If it weren’t for me, Winter never would’ve become part of the Xander family p>
Barely conscious, Steve heard the way Chris said her name and felt a jolt of fear for no clear reason.
It was as if that name had slipped out of some secret place buried deep inside him.
Using the last of his strength, Steve gritted out, “What… do you mean p>
What did Winter joining the Xander family have to do with Chris?
What was he even talking about?
Steve tried to reach back and grab Chris’s leg, but Chris kicked him over again.
Blood spilled from Steve’s mouth. Through the blur of dizziness, he caught the cold, unfamiliar darkness in Chris’s eyes.
“From the moment her parents died, she was always meant to be mine p>
The iron door slammed shut again.
A moment later, the sound of a car engine started up in the detention yard. Tires crushed over gravel as the black Bentley slowly drove away.
Inside the silent car, a phone began to ring.
In the dim light of the cabin, Chris glanced indifferently at the caller ID.
Skyla.
In his ears, he could almost hear thirteen–year–old Winter’s voice again, sweet and coaxing.
“Skyla got hit by her dad again. I told her to come to me if anything happens in the future. And if it’s something I can’t handle, then she can come to you. You’ll help her, right? Skyla’s really pitiful p>
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Back then, he had only looked at her without saying yes or no. But Winter had snatched his phone anyway, typed in the number, and saved the name herself.
She had looked up at him with a bright, mischievous smile.
“ If you don’t say anything, I’m taking that as a yes. ”
Chris swiped across the screen and answered the call.
“Chris,
I heard there’s an old remedy where you wash your hands in herb water to get rid of bad luck. I had some made for you. Could you come over p>
The moment Skyla saw that familiar car pull up outside Westbury, her eyes turned red.
Then he stepped out.
It had been three days since everything happened, plus the ten days before that. She hadn’t seen him in thirteen days.
Since coming back, she had never gone that long without seeing him.
Before, if she said she had no appetite, he would sit down and eat with her no matter how busy he was. But little by little, that stopped working. So she had started coming up with other excuses.
“Chris.” Skyla looked up at the man as he stepped onto the porch. A rush of longing surged through her, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms.
But the last time she had lured Winter to Westbury and tried to hug him while his attention was on Winter, he had shoved her away without a trace of mercy. Even now, the memory still made her uneasy.
When her eyes met Chris’s unreadable black gaze, she lowered her head and began to cry softly.
“I was worried sick these past three days. I’m just so relieved you’re okay p>
“How could anything happen to me?” Chris said, his tone carrying a deeper meaning.
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Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.