I Was His Luna, Not His Trash Chapter 04

I Was His Luna, Not His Trash Chapter 04

The storm inside me didn’t calm down until after midnight. I cried until I was sick. Days without food had drained what little strength I had left.

For the next three days, I drifted in and out of consciousness, curled up on the floor.

On the fourth day, a thin thread of willpower finally pulled me upright. I showered. I dressed. I realized I had to talk to Aaron.

The moment I got into my car, Aaron’s sedan screeched to a halt beside me. He yanked open my door and dragged me out by my arm. I hit the pavement hard, pain shooting through my hip.

“Where is she?” he roared. “What did you do to Chloe?”

I just stared at him, stunned. “What—”

His eyes darted to my car. He lunged inside and pulled out a bundle of fabric. A woman’s blouse.

He shook it out, revealing a dark brown stain right over the chest.

He shoved it in my face. “This is Chloe’s! Why is it in your car? Why is it covered in blood?”

The smell of blood jolted me. “I don’t know! I haven’t left the house! I haven’t seen her!”

“Enough!” he roared, his Alpha command pressed down on me, and my legs weakened.

“I’m done with your lies, Elena. I’ve been too soft on you. That’s why Chloe is in danger.”

Before I could process his words, he pulled out a coarse rope.

Ice cold panic flooded my body. “What are you doing? If you think I did something, call the police!”

“Call the police?” he spat, expertly looping the rope around my wrists and tying the other end to the tow hook of his truck.

“They’re looking for her. But she’s still missing. You’re going to tell me where she is.”

As I realized what he was about to do, my whole body went rigid. “Aaron…no. Please.”

He got into the driver’s seat, his face hard. “Let’s see how long your lies last.”

The engine roared. The car inched forward. The rope went taut.

I stumbled, then had to jog to avoid being dragged. Three days without food. I had no strength left.

The first time he sped up, my foot caught and I fell. The road tore through my clothes and into my skin.

“Stop! Aaron, stop!” I screamed, as the rough asphalt shredded my knees and palms. A hot, wet sensation ran down my inner thigh. The agony made it hard to breathe.

He didn’t stop. He just kept dragging me like garbage.

Everything became pain, blood, and broken sobs. Then everything went silent as darkness crept in.

A violent tremor ran through our bond. Fear. But it wasn’t coming from me.

The sedan braked hard.

Aaron got out, walking slowly. “Get up. I know you’re faking. Crawling so slow, you little actress—”

His voice died.

He stared at the ground behind his truck. A thick trail of blood stretched behind the truck, leading to my body.