By Tahereh Mafi
Set after Tahereh Mafi's Shatter Me and sooner than Unravel Me, the spellbinding sequel, Destroy Me is a novella informed from the point of view of Warner, the ruthless chief of quarter 45.
In Shatter Me, Juliette escaped from The Reestablishment by means of seducing Warner—and then placing a bullet in his shoulder. yet as she'll examine in Destroy Me, Warner isn't really that simple to cast off . . .
Back on the base and convalescing from his near-fatal wound, Warner needs to do every thing in his energy to maintain his infantrymen in fee and suppress any point out of a uprising within the quarter. nonetheless as captivated with Juliette as ever, his first precedence is to discover her, deliver her again, and cast off Adam and Kenji, the 2 traitors who helped her break out. but if Warner's father, the excellent Commander of The Reestablishment, arrives to right his son's blunders, it's transparent that he has a lot assorted plans for Juliette. Plans Warner easily can't permit.
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Extra info for Destroy Me (Shatter Me, Book 1.5)
My eyes went around the room one last time, from the computer to the tournament trophies on my shelves to the black-belt certificate framed on my wall to the movie poster of The Lord of the Rings. Finally, I looked at the back of my hand. There was a number written on it in black marker. That made me smile to myself. Then I snapped the light off. I said a quick goodnight prayer. In sixty seconds, I was sound asleep. CHAPTER THREE “Kill Him” Then, all at once, I woke up. There, in that bare, terrible room.
I fell to the earth with a downward finishing strike—a punch spiraling straight to the floor as my body dropped down behind it to give it extra force. ”—expelling every ounce of tension in my body, letting the tension explode into the punch as my knuckles scraped the surface of the polished wood. Then I was upright again, spinning again, lashing out with a hook kick that brought my foot snapping around behind me and the rest of my body snapping around after it. Under the sound of my movements, I could hear the silence of the audience, I could feel their attention on me, feel them caught up in the violent grace of the form.
The strap was strong and secure. The metal of the chair was smooth. Same with my right wrist. My hand extended over the arm of the chair. I could open and close it into a fist. But there was nothing within reach, nothing I could get hold of. What about my ankles? I had to lean forward in the chair as far as I could to get a look at the front of them, then lean over to the side to get another angle. On the left, it was the same as with my wrists. Nothing to see, nothing to use. A strap, a metal chair leg, a bolt holding the chair securely to the floor.
Destroy Me (Shatter Me, Book 1.5) by Tahereh Mafi