Life Before Damaged Vol. 8 (The Ferro Family) Read Online Free
Author: H. M. Ward
Tags: Suspense, Romance, Romantic Comedy, romantic suspense, New Adult & College, Anthologies, Collections & Anthologies, Mystery & Suspense
me like this. I don’t want to be friends. I don’t want to keep in touch. Have a nice life, Future Mrs. Ferro.”
FIRE, ICE, BLOOD, AND SWEAT
November 2nd, 2:43am
S moke .
My nose crinkles at the acrid odor. I try to breathe through my mouth instead, but the smell of scorching fumes makes my throat seize up.
Fire.
I open my eyes, panicked, sitting up in my new bed, in my new room in Ferro Mansion, drenched in cold sweat. Flames are everywhere, surrounding me. I’m trapped.
I gasp, try to scream but I can’t speak. I’m calling for help, but I have no voice. I’m alone, and no one can save me. Terror rips through my body as I press myself into a corner of the room.
Slowly, the flames morph into human shapes. Burning people reach out with flaming arms to pull me into the inferno with them.
I frantically back up on my bed until I’m pressed up against the intricate hardwood headboard, and I scream again. Sizzling hands grasp and pull at me, my skin blisters under their touch. I scan the room with my eyes, desperate for an escape. A clear, narrow path, leads from my bed to the door, but the suite is big.
I have to run. It’s the only way out.
I sprint from the bed, blazing hands grabbing at my bare legs as I run. I’m faster; I can do this. I'm not weak anymore, and I break free. I pass the living room and make it to the grand foyer by the wooden front door. I place my hands on the handle and realize the metal is freezing cold. I yank my blistered hand back and glance behind me.
The fiery mob is closing in on me, their faces morphing into focus. It's Philip, Zeke, and their skydiving buddies. They're calling my name, leering, asking me to join them. Philip's normally kind eyes are full of vengeance.
Wrapping my hand with the hem of my nightshirt, I try the handle once more. The door opens, and I run out, expecting to be on the front lawn, but I’m not. I must have gone through the wrong door because there are hallways that stretch endlessly in either direction.
Ice covers the walls. It’s so cold. My breath comes out in white puffs of steam, and I hold my arms tightly around me to keep warm. I don’t know where to go. Nothing looks familiar anymore.
I turn to my left and run, barefoot. With a stitch in my side, I tear down an endless icy corridor for what seems like hours. Impenetrable ice covers all the doors. I keep sprinting. I finally see the end of the hall. A single, ice-free door faces me. I try the handle. It’s neither hot nor cold to the touch, so I turn it.
I’m suddenly outside, on the vast grounds of Ferro Mansion, standing on soft green grass. I’m safe. I bend over at the waist, my hands resting on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I hear laughter from behind a nearby rose bush and tiptoe towards the sound. I wish I hadn’t.
On the other side of the bush, Pete sits on his bike, shirtless. Moonlight glistens off of the sweaty sheen on his skin, defining each toned muscle. He's holding a single rose in his hands, caressing the petals gently with his fingers as if it's the most precious thing he owns. Women surround him, dozens of naked women. They are clawing at him, trying to get him off of his bike. He looks at them lustily, hunger in his eyes.
When he sees me, his expression changes. He appears sad, lost. I step toward him, but the naked women push me back, hissing, their snakelike tongues darting out. Pete drops the rose to the ground, and it freezes on contact, shattering. He kicks the bike's engine to life and takes off, fast. He speeds on the icy covered ground and as he rounds the corner by the front gate, I see the back wheel lose traction.
The motorcycle tire slides out from under him as the bike races forward, and thrusts him into the pavement. His battered body slides toward the front gate, not slowing. Rungs of metal from the ornate decoration at the foot of the gate are shaped like arrowheads. There’s no helmet to protect his face, no jacket to save his skin. I
FIRE, ICE, BLOOD, AND SWEAT
November 2nd, 2:43am
S moke .
My nose crinkles at the acrid odor. I try to breathe through my mouth instead, but the smell of scorching fumes makes my throat seize up.
Fire.
I open my eyes, panicked, sitting up in my new bed, in my new room in Ferro Mansion, drenched in cold sweat. Flames are everywhere, surrounding me. I’m trapped.
I gasp, try to scream but I can’t speak. I’m calling for help, but I have no voice. I’m alone, and no one can save me. Terror rips through my body as I press myself into a corner of the room.
Slowly, the flames morph into human shapes. Burning people reach out with flaming arms to pull me into the inferno with them.
I frantically back up on my bed until I’m pressed up against the intricate hardwood headboard, and I scream again. Sizzling hands grasp and pull at me, my skin blisters under their touch. I scan the room with my eyes, desperate for an escape. A clear, narrow path, leads from my bed to the door, but the suite is big.
I have to run. It’s the only way out.
I sprint from the bed, blazing hands grabbing at my bare legs as I run. I’m faster; I can do this. I'm not weak anymore, and I break free. I pass the living room and make it to the grand foyer by the wooden front door. I place my hands on the handle and realize the metal is freezing cold. I yank my blistered hand back and glance behind me.
The fiery mob is closing in on me, their faces morphing into focus. It's Philip, Zeke, and their skydiving buddies. They're calling my name, leering, asking me to join them. Philip's normally kind eyes are full of vengeance.
Wrapping my hand with the hem of my nightshirt, I try the handle once more. The door opens, and I run out, expecting to be on the front lawn, but I’m not. I must have gone through the wrong door because there are hallways that stretch endlessly in either direction.
Ice covers the walls. It’s so cold. My breath comes out in white puffs of steam, and I hold my arms tightly around me to keep warm. I don’t know where to go. Nothing looks familiar anymore.
I turn to my left and run, barefoot. With a stitch in my side, I tear down an endless icy corridor for what seems like hours. Impenetrable ice covers all the doors. I keep sprinting. I finally see the end of the hall. A single, ice-free door faces me. I try the handle. It’s neither hot nor cold to the touch, so I turn it.
I’m suddenly outside, on the vast grounds of Ferro Mansion, standing on soft green grass. I’m safe. I bend over at the waist, my hands resting on my knees, trying to catch my breath. I hear laughter from behind a nearby rose bush and tiptoe towards the sound. I wish I hadn’t.
On the other side of the bush, Pete sits on his bike, shirtless. Moonlight glistens off of the sweaty sheen on his skin, defining each toned muscle. He's holding a single rose in his hands, caressing the petals gently with his fingers as if it's the most precious thing he owns. Women surround him, dozens of naked women. They are clawing at him, trying to get him off of his bike. He looks at them lustily, hunger in his eyes.
When he sees me, his expression changes. He appears sad, lost. I step toward him, but the naked women push me back, hissing, their snakelike tongues darting out. Pete drops the rose to the ground, and it freezes on contact, shattering. He kicks the bike's engine to life and takes off, fast. He speeds on the icy covered ground and as he rounds the corner by the front gate, I see the back wheel lose traction.
The motorcycle tire slides out from under him as the bike races forward, and thrusts him into the pavement. His battered body slides toward the front gate, not slowing. Rungs of metal from the ornate decoration at the foot of the gate are shaped like arrowheads. There’s no helmet to protect his face, no jacket to save his skin. I
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