WRECKED: GODS OF CHAOS MC, BOOK FOUR Read Free Page A

flooding my brain painfully and I slammed them shut again, the moan vibrating on my lips. That must be me. Where am I?
    A low, throaty laugh sounded in my ears and I reached a hand out towards it.
    “Dad?” I murmured, my hand left empty. The laugh sounded again, right next to my ear this time, but it wasn’t my father’s carefree laugh. It was something else. Something sinister, something that chilled me, something that cut right through the darkness and sliced into me like a knife.
    “Dad?” I asked again, attempting to open my eyes once more, determined to push through the blinding pain. I blinked, and blinked again and again, pushing away the blurriness until my surroundings came into focus.
    A hotel room. A bed. A window, the white drapes drawn closed.
    A man.
    Fear. What was a smooth sinking knife of fear in my gut before became a parade of thundering fists pummeling my heart into a bloody pulp.
    Panic. Sheer, terror-inducing panic.
    “Where’s my father?” I asked, my voice quivering.
    “Dead,” the man answered - one simple, life-changing word.
    “No!” I cried, attempting to sit up as my entire body was hit with the pain of a thousand semis running me over. I screamed, my hands flying to my head.
    That’s when I felt the bandages. My head was covered in them, completely wrapped up like a mummy.
    “No!” I screamed, denial rushing through my veins. “No, no, no!” I yelled, ignoring the physical pain as the mental anguish of my reality hit me.
    “I’m guessing Daddy didn’t clue you in on your new face?” the man answered, shaking his head, clicking his teeth with his tongue. “Damn, that’s harsh.”
    I slumped back in the bed, my head racing. I’d begged Daddy not to do it. Not to take my face. It was the only thing I had left of my mother. There was no pictures. No clothes. No keepsakes at all. Nothing was left after our house exploded.
    The only things I had left of her were my father and my face - the one that resembled hers so greatly.
    And now they were both gone.
    I had nothing.
    I was nothing.
    “Amazing that he didn’t tell you,” the man muttered, leaning over me, his face so close I could feel the heat of his breath. “Maybe he meant to surprise you? Oh, well, too late for that now. But don’t worry, darling. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Not a soul will touch that pretty little face, or harm a hair on your head - well, when it grows back, of course - except me.” He reached down, trailing a long finger up my arm, and I recoiled in horror.
    “Who are you?” I whispered, swallowing hard, trying to push away the fear.
    “I’m one of the richest and most powerful men in the world, darling. And thanks to your talented father, I’m even more beautiful than I was before. Surely, you’ve heard of me? Royce Randolph the Third, darling. Don’t worry, beauty. I’ll take care of you. You’re mine now.”
    “Please just let me go. I promise I won’t tell anyone anything, if you just let me go,” I pleaded, tears forming in the corners of my eyes and stinging the raw flesh around them.
    “Let you go?” he asked. “Darling, don’t be ridiculous. I love the idea of nobody ever touching your face before. It’s like it was created just for me. And, of course, it’s hard to see right now with all those bandages, but I bet your insanely talented father did an extra special, spectacular job on his precious daughter, don’t you think? I mean, look how beautiful he made me!” He stood up, running a finger over the bandages on my cheek. “Oh, yes, I can’t wait to unwrap this pretty little package. You’re a little too old for my tastes, but I guess I could use a wife, just for show. And what better choice than an untouched beauty like yourself?” Gleefully, he clapped his hands together, the evil glistening in his eyes.
    “You can’t just keep me!” I demanded.
    “Can’t I?” he asked, reaching inside his silk suit and pulling something out of his pocket. He held it