After We Collided (After, #2) by Anna Todd Read Online (FREE)
I call her again, but her phone goes straight to voicemail for the twentieth time. Goddammit, I’m such a fucking idiot. After driving around for an hour to every library, every bookstore, I decide to go back to the apartment. Maybe she’ll show up, maybe she’ll show up . . . I know she won’t.
But what if she does? I need to clean up the huge mess I made, and buy some new dishes to replace the ones that I smashed against the walls, just in case she comes home.
A MAN’S VOICE BOOMS through the air, and vibrates my bones: “Where are you, Scott?”
“I saw him leave the bar. I know he’s here,” another man says.
The floor is cold when I climb out of bed. At first I thought it was Daddy and his friends, but now I don’t think it is.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” the deepest voice yells, and there’s a massive crash.
“He isn’t here,” my mummy says as I reach the bottom of the stairs and can see everyone. My mum and four men.
“Ohhh, look what we have here,” the taller man says. “Who knew Scott had such a bangin’ wife.” He grabs my mum by the arm and pulls her off the couch.
She grabs at her shirt desperately. “Please . . . he isn’t here. If he owes you money, I’ll give you all I have. You can take anything in the house, the television maybe . . .”
But the man only sneers at her. “A television? I don’t want a damn television.”
I watch her struggle to shake free of him, almost like a fish I caught once. “I have some jewelry—not much, but please—”
“Shut the fuck up!” another man says and smacks her.
“Mum!” I yell and run into the living room.
“Hardin . . . go upstairs!” she shouts, but I’m not leaving my mummy with these bad men.
“Get out of here, you little shit,” one of them tells me, pushing me so I land hard on my butt. “See, bitch, the problem is that your husband did this,” he snarls, pointing to his head, where I see a massive gash across his bald scalp. “And since he isn’t here, the only thing we want is you.” He smiles, and she kicks her legs at him.
“Hardin, baby, go upstairs . . . Now!” she yells.
Wait, why is she mad at me?
“I think he wants to watch,” the injured man says and pushes her onto the couch.
I jolt awake and sit up.
They keep coming, every night worse than the last. I got so used to them not coming that I could sleep. Because of her, it was all because of her.
But here I am at four in the damn morning with bloody sheets from my busted knuckles and a killer headache from my nightmares.
I close my eyes and try to pretend she’s really here, and hope that sleep will come.
Tess, baby, wake up,” Hardin whispers as he touches his lips to the soft skin just under my ear. “You look so beautiful when you’re waking up.”