The Sacrifice Read Online Shantel Tessier

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, New Adult, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
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“Is that awful of me?” Lake whispers. “Am I … a coward?”

Propping myself up on my elbow, I frown as she rolls onto her back, placing her shaking hands over her face. “Why would you ask that?” I pull them away so I can look at her.

She licks her trembling lips, looking over at the floor-to-ceiling windows, unable to meet my eyes. It’s dark outside, so you can’t see shit out of them. The first tear runs down the side of her cheek when she speaks. “Because I don’t remember it. Other victims—”

“Lake.” I cup her face, cutting her off, and fresh tears fall from her lashes when she blinks. “No.”

“We’ve had sex since then.” Her chest starts to heave. “I’ve … begged you.”

I grab her wrists and pull her to sit up. “Breathe, little darling,” I tell her, needing her to calm down. She’s all worked up and I hate to see her hurting. She’s fighting a battle that I didn’t even think would be one.

She throws her arms around my neck, and I pull her into my lap, hugging her to me tightly and softly rocking her.

I understand what she’s trying to say she feels. She went on with her life while other men and women have had to live with the nightmares and the trauma.

Am I glad she was unconscious? Yes. Do I hate that he’s making her feel bad about herself for that? Abso-fucking-lutely. But the Spade brothers have assured me that I can keep Luke alive as long as I want and visit him as often as I choose. While my wife starts to heal and comes to peace with her decision, I’ll remind him every fucking day that he has to live with his.

EPILOGUE

TYSON

I sit tucked back in the corner when my cell vibrates in my suit jacket. I pull it out to see it’s a text from my wife.

Little Darling: Don’t forget we have dinner tonight with our friends.

She thinks I’m at Blackout overseeing the progress of the new building. I’m not, but that’s what I told her. The club is coming along quicker than I expected. The grand opening is in just a couple of weeks.

The Lords offered me my life back. The one I traded in for my wife. Truth is, I love my life the way it is. Does that mean I’ll run Blackout until I die? No. But for now, it’s what I want to do.

We made a public announcement and informed the world that my wife was alive and well, while carrying our children. We told them that she was recovering and we wanted privacy at this time.

I wanted the world to see that she is loved. That means everything to me. She deserves to be seen and heard. Her family had silenced her for so long, and I won’t do that to my wife. She may be my whore in private, but she is my equal in every aspect of our lives.

As it turns out, more died in the fire than we were aware of. That’s what we made the world to believe after Gavin helped me out with the men I killed while trying to track down my wife. The Lords didn’t give a fuck who I killed, but when the body count grows as high as mine did, you have to give a reason for why they disappeared.

ME: I’ll be home soon.

I pocket my phone when I hear an elevator ding, signaling the arrival of my guest. I stay seated, hands steepled and waiting. I’ve been here for over an hour. It took a little longer than expected but I knew it would happen nonetheless.

Laughter fills the room before a woman enters with a man. “I want a drink,” she tells him.

He goes over to the bucket that holds a bottle of Louis Roederer Cristal Brut Champagne that he already had waiting for them. Handing her a flute, he then fills his own and throws it back, ready to get this party started.

Setting his glass down, he stumbles, and she reaches out to grab his arm, her drink untouched. “Are you okay?”

“Ye-ah.” He blinks rapidly, his eyes darting around the room aimlessly, trying to focus on anything. After a few minutes, he falls to the floor and he doesn’t move.

I stand from my chair and make my way over to the light switch, flipping it on. She takes a step back, almost tripping in her heels she’s so nervous.

Reaching into my suit pocket, I hold out the envelope to her. “Get the fuck out of here,” I tell her, and she turns, running to the elevator, wanting to get as far away from me as possible.

Once I’m met with silence, I get to work.

Senior year at Barrington University

I sit in the passenger seat of Hansen’s car as he pulls up to the Cathedral. It’s three in the morning, and he just busted me out of jail.


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