Intimidator by Cari Silverwood Read Free Book Online Page A

some straying curls and scrambled to her feet. The real world called.

Chapter 4
    Mandy wriggled into a better position on the sofa as she knitted the last rows of the tiny green pullover. Then she held it out before her. Her fingers had gone a bit numb from her stupid carpal tunnel problem but this was so worth it. Who would’ve thought anyone would want pullovers for little oil-slicked penguins? The darn things were such cuties she hadn’t been able to resist when she’d seen the link on Facebook for people to knit these to help save them.
    Phoebe and Jamie were doing this too. They were racing each other.
    She’d begun a second one when the front door opened and clicked shut. His footsteps on the tiles made her grin. What the hell would he think of this latest venture? Being a dentist, he was very practical and no-nonsense.
    Her feet jiggled. Hugging and screaming was what she needed to do.
    No. She wouldn’t get all excited, not yet. She’d pretend nonchalance, despite him being too busy with the conference to do more than text once or twice. Mean man.
    His shadow eclipsed the opening to the hall. She flung aside the pullover, leaped up and ran to him, grinning. Fuck being calm, he’d been away days!
    “Christopherrr! How was the flight? What was Adelaide like? Why didn’t you return calls? You’re –”
    The blankness on his face chilled her. What was this?
    She put a hand out and touched his arm. “What’s wrong?”
    “Nothing. Come here.”
    She smiled, tension ebbing, and melted into his embrace. “I missed you so, so much.”
    Then something stung her cheek and she slipped, senseless, into a white oblivion.
    When she awoke she found herself tied, spread-eagled, ever so tightly to their big double bed. Naked, she was naked. Mandy licked her dry lips, stumbling inside her mind to make sense of this.
    Had she been drinking and forgotten?
    When Christopher appeared still dressed in his suit at the periphery of her vision, she turned her head and smiled shakily. He’d never been kinky.
    Something metal and silvery glinted in his hand.
    “Chris? Baby? What are you doing?”
    Wordless, he approached and raised what she recognized as one of his dental implements to her wrist.
    “Chris! Hey! Stop that!” She twisted her body, cringing away as the drill screamed into its little metal whine. She remembered him telling her once that the motor inside it could spin the end drill six bazillion times a second or something. Her throat clamped in tight enough to choke her into not breathing. But she couldn’t look away, couldn’t tear her eyes off the terrifying thing.
    She writhed more, helpless to escape but still trying. The sharp point bit her skin, sinking in. Redness spurted and she screamed for all of one second before he planted something over her mouth.
    After that she still screamed but the sound was mostly inside her head, muffled, harsh. Even her eyeballs strained with pressure as she threw her head from side to side, as if they would pop from the inside.
    He moved on to do her right ankle, having to use his weight to keep her completely still. Then he did her left, then her other wrist, ignoring her whining distress, the arching of her spine, the desperate flinching of her muscles.
    Her throat was raw from the screaming.
    The pain . Her bones jittered when the metal went too deep.
    Christopher, her Christopher…this wasn’t him, couldn’t be. It was some monster. Tears coursed down her face. She fought the urge to throw up.
    Who was this man?
    After extracting the drill from the flesh of her wrist, he stepped back and watched. The multiple pains throbbed and lanced at her. She blinked away the last of her tears, her chest rising and falling in ragged movements, breathing rasping in her ears. Would the neighbors hear? Would they call the police? They must. They must. Before he did something worse.
    Maybe he was done?
    Had to be. Had to be . He was done.
    Her hopes nearly floated her off the bed. She