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Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle Beverly Barton Table of Contents Close Enough to Kill BEVERLY BARTON To my husband, Billy … for the love, patience and TLC I’ve always been able to count on through our many years together Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty One Chapter Twenty Two Chapter Twenty Three Chapter Twenty Four Chapter Twenty Five Chapter Twenty Six Chapter Twenty Seven Chapter Twenty Eight Chapter Twenty Nine Chapter Thirty Chapter Thirty One Chapter Thirty Two Epilogue Acknowledgments Please, dear God, let him kill me. Stephanie Preston lay on the narrow cot, listening to the rapid beat of her heart. Staring up at the ceiling in the small, dark room, she tried to pretend she was somewhere else. At home, with Kyle. Or at work, surrounded by people she knew and trusted. Perhaps at church, where she sang in the choir. Anywhere but here. With anyone but him. As hard as she tried to mentally remove herself from the reality of this moment, from where she was and what was happening to her, she could not fully escape into her mind. Try harder. Think about last Christmas. About how surprised you were when Kyle proposed, on bended knee, right there in front of your parents and your sisters. Just as the image of her smiling parents flashed through her mind, the man on top of her rammed into her again, harder this time. With more fury. And his fingers dug into her hips as he forced her body upward to meet his savage thrust. As he accelerated the harshness and speed of his deep lunges, he voiced his need, as he did every time he raped her. “Tell me.” He growled the words. “Say it. You know what I want to hear.” No, I won’t. Not this time. I can’t. I can’t. She lay beneath him, silent and unmoving, longing for death, knowing what was going to happen next. He slowed, then stopped and lifted himself enough to gaze down into her face. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at him. Not wanting to see the face of terror. He grabbed her, clutching her chin between his index finger and thumb, pressing painfully into her cheeks. “Open your eyes, bitch. Open your eyes and look at me.” Her eyelids flickered. Don’t obey him. Not this time. Be strong. “Why are you being so stubborn?” he asked, a tone of genuine puzzlement in his voice. “You know that I can force you to do whatever I want. Why make it so hard on yourself? You know that, in the end, you’ll obey me.” “Please …” She opened her eyes and looked at him through a mist of tears. “Please, what?” Tears pooled in her eyes despite her determination not to cry. He liked it when she cried. “Just finish it.” “If you want me to finish with you, then tell me what I want to hear. Otherwise, I’ll punish you. I’ll make it last a long time.” Lowering his head to her breast, he opened his mouth and bared his teeth. Before she could respond, he clamped down on her nipple and bit. She cried out in pain. He thrust into her several times. Harder each time. When he moved his mouth to the other breast, she gasped, then cried out hurriedly, “I love you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anyone. Please, darling, make love to me.” He smiled. God, how she hated his smile. “That’s a good girl. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll give you what you want.” She lay there beneath him and endured the rape, hating every moment, despising him and loathing herself
