Hundreds: Dollar, #3

By Pepper Winters

“I'm done hurting her. She's been hurt enough. It's time I set her free...”

Once upon a time, I wished to go home and forget.

Now, I’m strong and ready to fight.

Seduced and claimed, Elder no longer just demands my voice, he commands me to be a thief like him.

I refuse.

But he offers me things I shouldn’t want, favours I should run from.

In return for his protection, I’m ordered to steal enough pennies and dollars to buy back my freedom.

Only, we both aren’t prepared for how he changes me, evolves me.

And now, it’s my turn to learn about him.

Book 3 in the USA Today Bestselling Romance, Dollar Series

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pepper Winters
• Release date: May 2, 2017
• ISBN: 9781533749079

Book preview

OTHER WORK BY PEPPER WINTERS

Pepper Winters is a multiple New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today International Bestseller.

All Pepper’s books are available in e-book, paperback, & audio.

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Hundreds Blurb

––––––––

I'm done hurting her. She's been hurt enough. It's time I set her free...

Once upon a time, I wished to go home and forget.

Now, I’m strong and ready to fight.

Seduced and claimed, Elder no longer just demands my voice, he commands me to be a thief like him.

I refuse.

But he offers me things I shouldn’t want, favours I should run from.

In return for his protection, I’m ordered to steal enough pennies and dollars to buy back my freedom.

Only, we both aren’t prepared for how he changes me, evolves me.

It’s my turn to learn about him.

Until something goes wrong.

And our life together comes to an end.

Contents

OTHER WORK BY PEPPER WINTERS

Hundreds Blurb

Prologue

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

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

PLAYLIST

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

OTHER WORK BY PEPPER WINTERS

Prologue

______________________________

Pimlico

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HE’D ALMOST DESTROYED me by taking me.

He’d broken into my body, my mind, my memories, my hardships. He’d infiltrated the part of me I’d kept locked away from Alrik’s torture. He’d knocked on the door where Tasmin hid, ripping open the locks and dragging me back into the living.

Somehow, by forcing himself inside me, he’d switched awful historical memories with confused present ones. He’d shown me I was stronger than I thought. Shown me how to seek comfort after having none.

In one act of unbridled brutality, he’d awoken me to a world where I didn’t die if I had sex. I didn’t crumble if a man touched me. I didn’t break if I talked.

He’d almost destroyed me.

Almost.

But he hadn’t.

And from the ashes, I stood tall.

Chapter One

______________________________

Elder

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WHAT THE FUCK was I thinking?

How could I let myself do such a thing?

I was worse than him. Worse than the monster who’d kept her.

At least his intentions were obvious. Me? I’d lulled her into believing I’d protect and care for her, only to snap at the worst possible time.

Fuck!

Dragging a hand through my hair, I cursed the shake in my fingers. I needed to get myself under control before I lost even more self-discipline. I couldn’t afford to let my mind go to the tangled place where I struggled to climb out of.

My heart raced. My blood gushed. I was wild with fucking regret.

Tracks showed on the thick carpet where I’d paced all night. Ever since taking Pimlico back to her room, I couldn’t stop.

My body couldn’t stay still while memories of slipping inside her tormented me—of feeling her incredible heat, then fucking shattering as her sobs began.

I couldn’t get the sight of her tears or the sound of her first words out of my head.

My body didn’t know if it wanted to find a release after the worst sexual experience of my life or swear off women altogether.

Even hours later, I still felt her around me. I still suffered the soft bounce of her in my lap as she cried and punched me and demanded to know where I was two years ago.

Her tears were my dishonour. Her questions were my punishment.

I’d taken something that should’ve been healing and full of whatever was growing between us and turned it into yet another rape.

I hadn’t waited until she was ready, and now, I’d destroyed myself too.

My cello sat where I’d left it on the floor. I wanted nothing more than to choke it, murder it, and create tortured music. I needed chords and rhythm to make sense of this confounding emotion inside me. I needed the crux I always used to keep myself sane.

But I stayed clear.

I couldn’t hurt her more than I already had.

Music was my salvation but it was Pim’s absolute nightmare.

Each time I’d played, Pimlico had found me. My songs sent her back to hell while her presence in my life made me join her in the fiery pits.

I wouldn’t play because I didn’t want her to find me again. She needed to stay away for a while. I couldn’t be around her until I figured out who I was, who I wanted to be, and just how to be a fucking gentleman again.

Thoughts of getting rid of her taunted me. It would be a relief to remove her from my yacht and leave her in my wake.

That would be the right and best thing to do.

Especially now.

Now that I’d snapped.

Perhaps, I’d arrange for her freedom.

Maybe, I’d give her to another.

Regardless, the best thing for everyone would be to send her away and never see her again.

Chapter Two

______________________________

Pimlico

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DEAR NO ONE,

He slept with me.

He finally showed me what he will do. What he expects. How it will be from now—

I flung the pen across the room.

Stop.

That’s not true.

Yes, he’d hurt me. Yes, he’d been inside me. And yes, he’d done what I’d always feared he’d do.

But he hadn’t been cruel. He hadn’t beaten me or called me names. He hadn’t killed me for sobbing in his arms, screaming at him, or hitting him over and over again.

He’d held me. Soothed me. Comforted me.

He’d taken something wrong and somehow turned it...right? No, not right but definitely different from every other sexual experience I’d endured.

He could steal from me so easily. He could hurt me far too simply.

Yet he hadn’t.

He’d cradled me in his arms. He’d kissed away my tears.

He let me hit him.

I shook my head at the tenderness he’d shown. He’d touched me against my wishes and entered me without permission, but he’d done so much afterward to make up for his mistake.

You’re giving him permission to rape you now?

I climbed from the bed, picked up the pen from the floor, and returned to the mattress all while trying to understand my string-knotted thoughts.

I wasn’t giving him permission, exactly, but I wouldn’t shoulder him entirely with the blame. I hadn’t been totally innocent. I was no longer a trapped captive—used at the whims of her diabolical master. I was free—or as much as I could be on a yacht with the sea all around me. I lived with a man I found immensely attractive, exotic, and secretive.

I’d warmed to him.

I’d kissed him back.

I’d wanted him on the streets of Morocco.

Whatever was between us couldn’t be labelled but it had threaded us together, despite our uncommon introduction.

I’d never had that sort of connection with anyone. I’d never seen undiluted passion in a man’s eyes but trust him not to hurt me with it at the same time. His self-control drove me to do reckless things like daydream what it would be like to be with him with no baggage of my past.

I’d selfishly only thought about me. About what Elder was doing for my recuperation rather than what it would be like for him sharing his home with a crazy woman who didn’t like clothing, touch, or music.

My issues weren’t his fault, so why punish him?

Because you’re not well. You’re healing.

Yes, I was healing, and that was because of him. He was the reason I was alive with a functioning tongue rather than tongueless and dead.

I put too much on him—never letting go of my suspicion and fear.

I wasn’t easy to be around. Hell, I hated being around me most of the time. I hadn’t appreciated how draining it would be to live with a mute all while she struggled to return to her sexuality while abhorring it at the same time.

I’d given mixed messages.

To him and to myself.

Don’t give him excuses.

I sighed, drawing a love heart on the back of my hand.

I wasn’t giving him excuses. I was beginning to live like a normal girl again. A girl who wasn’t just wrapped up in herself and her plight. A girl who would shoulder some of what’d happened because she knew people weren’t perfect. I’d locked up so much of my previous life that it took time to open rusty lids and pull out age-covered recollections. With each memory, dust clouds fogged up the attic of my mind, blurring everything for a time before slowly settling and leaving clarity.

I was finally seeing clear after being in that dusty fog.

I’d studied psychology textbooks that’d given insights into inconsistencies and screw-ups of the human race. I’d learned from experience that the worst members of society could be manipulated through subtle body language. I’d educated myself on how to pre-empt a person’s mood by their mannerisms.

It was time I used those skills and analysed myself for a change, rather than remain unwilling to evolve.

So what if my skin crawled when I wore clothing? It made other people uncomfortable to see me naked.

So what if music made my heart bleed and my mind burrow into hiding? Elder needed to play to quieten his own demons.

So what if I was still at his mercy, dependent on his generosity for however long he’d keep me? The time he’d already given had to be appreciated and valued.

I was done being the victim.

And I was through living this way. This scared, timid, unhealing way.

Ever since Elder had let me cry in his arms—giving me a safe harbour for my tears—he’d been the utmost gentleman. Once my panic had receded, he’d slowly disengaged, leaving my body and heart empty of him.

For so long, I’d hated any form of touching. However, wrapped in my sadness with Elder’s body inside mine, something had changed. His intrusion had added an unwanted but deeper connection to our strange relationship.

Not once did he move or try to claim his own pleasure. He didn’t thrust or come or even groan in frustration when we disconnected. He’d placed me on his bed as if I’d shatter.

Pulling up his pants, he’d wrapped me in his sheets then carried me back to my quarters.

I’d tucked into his arms and let him care for me. I didn’t speak as he’d placed me onto my bed and kissed my forehead with every tenderness I’d been missing.

Stay.

I’d wanted him to stay. Despite our first sexual encounter being one-sided and rushed and full of music decaying any pleasure I might’ve found, I hadn’t wanted him to go.

My first words had been condemning and judgmental. I was afraid he’d leave, and I’d never see him again.

Stay.

But he hadn’t.

He’d given me another sweet, barely-felt kiss, brushed aside my hair, and stared into my eyes as if searching for something—hate, loathing? I didn’t know.

His jaw had clenched. His black eyes heavy and depthless. And then, he’d gone.

That was yesterday.

I hadn’t slept all night and spent most of the morning and afternoon reliving his body inside me—the thickness, the warmness. With him filling me, I’d suffered a complex recipe of fear and power. Fear because of my past. Power because of the way he looked at me.

He’d let me drown in those emotions until he withdrew, transforming us from one person to two again.

We’d technically had sex, yet it was nothing like any previous sex I’d had. I hadn’t enjoyed pleasure—just like all the hated times with Alrik.

But that was a lie.

There had been pleasure.

Pleasure in letting go and speaking after so long.

Pleasure in crying.

Even pleasure in knowing I hurt him with my never-ending questions.

Scrambling toward the edge of the bed, I swung my legs to the floor and collected my pen and notepad. Elder had scattered all parts of me, ransacked my heart, and decimated my survival mechanisms. But what was left was so much better.

Holes, mistrust, and suicide no longer riddled me.

I was newly born and ready to be who I’d been before I was sold at that awful auction.

Composing another line to No One, I pressed pen to paper.

I’m willing to heal, No One. Will he give me that chance or will he expect to take me again next time we see each other?

The flow of ink was so much smoother than a pencil nib. The question darker and stained with permanency. I desperately wanted to know if Elder would remain courteous and give me the time I needed to willingly enter his bed or if he’d finish what he’d started last night.

Either way, I would survive because I’d finally made that choice to pick living over dying. I’d finally reached the pinnacle where I was ready to say fuck you to my past and hello to my future.

I’m going to talk to him, No One. After so much silence, I have so many questions. If I ask, I’m sure he’ll answer.

Somehow, a layer of judgment fell over me. As if No One wasn’t so sure—as if my imaginary saviour doubted my newfound conviction that Elder wasn’t just another monster.

I’d never felt anything but soothing support before. It unsettled me to feel myself at war.

If I asked Elder what he intended to do with me, I had no doubt he would tell me the truth. Or at least—his version of the truth.

But he never answered your previous question.

I paused, biting my bottom lip.

That was true.

He’d rocked and let me hit him, but he’d never given me a reply. No matter how many times I’d asked.

Where were you two years ago?

My shoulders hunched.

I should never have asked that. It was a terrible question because it wasn’t his responsibility. How could I dump that guilt on him? It wasn’t like he knew me then. I was nobody to him just like he was nobody to me. I couldn’t blame him for what’d happened because none of this was his fault.

Where were you two years ago?

His answer didn’t matter.

Not anymore. Not now, when I was more human than animal—able to analyse and ponder rather than rely entirely on fight or flight.

Sighing heavily, I scrawled:

His whereabouts two years is irrelevant. I was living my life, and he was living his. I can’t hate him because he didn’t stop Alrik from buying me. The pain I suffered is mine, not his. Just like his tragedies that I couldn’t prevent are his.

It was a relief to let go of things I’d bottled inside. I’d been so angry with Elder. I’d held him accountable for things he hadn’t done. I’d hated him for playing his cello. I’d fought him when he encouraged me to talk. I’d refused to dress. I’d punished him until he’d snapped.

Those weren’t excuses for his behaviour.

They were just facts.

And I refused to be so self-absorbed anymore.

I have to apologise.

A part of me rolled its eyes.

You seriously want to apologise to the man who took you without consent?

Tossing my notepad and pen onto the bed, I gathered the white robe draped over the sheets and shrugged it on. This time, I didn’t let thoughts of claustrophobia take away the warmth of clothing cloaking me.

From now on, I was normal. And normal girls wore clothing.

Elder might’ve taken me without consent, but by doing so, he’d shown me a horizon of courage hidden above the fractured ceiling of my mind.

Apologising to him, dressing in public, and thanking him for his hospitality were the right things to do. Everything else—the lingering glances, the tummy-fluttering kisses, the tear-invoking cello—could be worked through now that I was in a healthier place.

My note to No One lay discarded on the bed, and I had no desire to finish it. I needed to learn how to survive without a silent pen pal as my crutch.

Padding to the bathroom, I inspected my reflection.

For no sleep, I didn’t look too bad. Only slight shadows under my eyes and tangled hair from running hands through it when my thoughts gave me a headache.

Yesterday, I’d still been Pimlico.

Tonight, I would try to be more Tasmin.

Despite what’d happened between us—or perhaps because of it—I was stronger and more alive since I’d woken on the Phantom and in Elder’s realm.

I turned on the hot water, slipped from the robe, and stepped into the shower.

As soapy bubbles decorated my skin, I made the choice to stop my past dictating my future. The minute I was clean, I would head to the top deck, seek Elder out, and see where this new beginning would take us.

Chapter Three

______________________________

Elder

––––––––

SIR?

Selix entered my quarters.

I’d spent most of the day finishing the sketches for Alrik’s yacht. Just because he was dead didn’t mean I wouldn’t complete his paid-for vessel. I always upheld my end of the business transactions. However, it just meant this new creation would find a different owner.

I put down my pencil and cricked my neck. Yes?

She just appeared on deck. I know you didn’t ask for news but thought you’d want to know.

I frowned. I wasn’t entirely sure why he thought I’d want to know. As far as he was concerned, today was just another day, and nothing had happened. He didn’t know what I’d done...does he?

Standing, I narrowed my eyes at my right-hand man and friend. She can be on deck if she wishes. We’d sailed leisurely all afternoon. There was no bad weather on the horizon like the storm we’d endured together. Pim could do whatever she damn well wanted while I stayed the hell away.

Of course. Selix clasped his hands in front of him, his long hair untethered and inky over his shoulders. Just thought I’d update you. Also, I took the liberty of telling the kitchen to serve a light dinner.

My temper spiked. Did I say I was hungry?

Selix smirked, knowing he’d overstepped but not giving a shit. No, but you haven’t eaten. And, according to the maid, she hasn’t eaten either.

My hands curled at the thought of Pim distraught and sobbing—too broken to even eat after the fucked-up thing I’d done. Someone needs to ensure she’s eating. She’s too damn skinny to skip meals.

She refused breakfast and lunch, but now, she’s out of her room. It’s a good opportunity to tell her to eat yourself.

I’m not her keeper.

"No, but you’ve taken it upon yourself to be something. Fuck if I know what it is. His forehead scrunched. Not that it’s any of my business. He backed from my office, clutching the door knob. The chef will have dinner ready soon. Whether or not you decide to eat, I’ll make sure the girl has something."

Fingernails dug into my palms as I curled my hands. You’re a lot of things, Selix, but this is a first for you.

First of what?

Fucking meddling.

His lips twitched. You should know by now I can’t help what I see. We both fought to stay alive. And now, she’s doing the same. Until you kick her off the Phantom, I’ll continue to monitor her to keep both you and her safe.

I read between the lines.

He’d be respectful of Pim as long as she didn’t try to hurt me—even though she had every right to after I’d forced myself on her. He’d made a vow to protect me, just like I had him. Only, he preferred to stay slightly in my shadow rather than become full partner—even though I’d offered him half of everything for his loyalty.

This isn’t your fight, Selix.

If you’re in the ring, then yes, it is.

Need I remind you that you once tried to kill me? I think I prefer that side of you.

He chuckled, closing the door as he said, That was before I knew you. Let’s hope the girl gets to know you too, so I don’t have to hurt her.

He didn’t give me a chance to reply.

My veiled insinuations about our war on the streets hung over me. We’d tried to kill each other multiple times until we transformed our mutual dislike into a brotherhood. He was there when the evil from my past found me—like they always did. He was there when I stood over a corpse, dreading the scent of death but glad it was my enemy and not me bleeding out. He was there when I told him about the faction that would never stop hunting me and my goal to exterminate them before they could exterminate me.

The click of the door switched my thoughts from past to present.

I shook my head free from life-threatening issues and focused on heart-ripping ones instead. I’d lived with the shadow of my death chasing me for years. Pim was still new to me and I’d already destroyed her.

Was she okay? Why hadn’t she eaten? Had I ruined her that much? If she’d been suicidal before, had I just made it ten times fucking worse?

The thought of undoing everything I’d tried to achieve gutted me. My stomach growled as apprehension stole the rest of my depleted energy.

Selix was right about one thing. I was hungry and needed food before I could fix what I’d fucked up.

Leaving my sketches, I stalked across the room and collected my cello. I should’ve put it away safely, but I couldn’t touch it all morning because every time I did, all I could think about was Pim crying.

With almost twenty-four hours separating what’d happened and now, my room wasn’t as intimate with mismatched feelings. I could tolerate putting it away. Lifting the heavy instrument, I plucked the bow off the chair and headed to the special padded box in the wardrobe.

My fingers itched to play, but I ignored them.

If I gave in, I’d lose myself to hours of music until midnight replaced early evening.

Once I’d locked the cello inside its case, I shrugged into a fresh black t-shirt and left my room.

Pim was on deck. Deck meant neutral territory with multiple staff keeping boundaries in place. I would prefer not to see her, but I had to man the fuck up and apologise. Breaking bread together would give us a reason to meet. And if she hated my guts, then I’d think on my feet and offer an alternative to her staying with me.

Obsession or no obsession.

I wouldn’t destroy Pim just to get what I needed.

I’d survived this long without slipping.

I’d do whatever it took to continue.

Chapter Four

______________________________

Pimlico

––––––––

MY HEART SAW him before my eyes did.

Somehow, the organ responsible for keeping me alive in the worst of tragedies had reprogramed itself to his frequency. I was in better sanctuaries now, yet he still made my skin break out with goosebumps.

I knew the moment he was close even though I couldn’t see or hear him.

I knew he saw me by the way my scalp prickled beneath his attention.

And I knew his sole purpose for being here was because of me, just like my sole purpose of being there was for him.

We needed to clear the air before I drove myself crazy.

He’d taken something from me that I wasn’t prepared to give. But in doing so, he’d unlocked something I wasn’t strong enough to tap into. I owed him retribution and thanks.

I just didn’t know which would come first.

Soundless feet whispered with hesitation as he inched closer.

He moved slowly as if afraid I’d bolt if he approached too fast.

Where would I run? How far could I swim in the vast unending ocean before he scooped me from the salty brine and took yet another piece of me?

No, running wasn’t an option anymore—even if the sea didn’t prevent such a thing.

I’ll stay and fight.

My shoulders tensed with conviction,