Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69936 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Ow,” I called out as my body absorbed the blow, my head hitting last. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It seemed I was lucky to not have the strength to break into a sprint since if I’d gone any faster, that might’ve knocked me right back out.
“Twink?” I heard behind me, his tone unassuming, reminding me how easy it was for him to gain my trust.
In a panic, I knew I needed a weapon. I dug into my pocket for my keys and retrieved them, positioning them between my fingers to use as a claw.
Hey, it was the best I could do!
I walked back into the room where he’d been holding me captive.
He was still on the other side of the table. “That wasn’t a way out,” he explained in such a calm way, the sort of way a guy who knew I was fucked would talk.
“Where is the way out?” I shouted at him, hoping to make him feel that I was more confident than I was. “Tell me!”
“Don’t you see that I’m trying to help you?”
“Don’t you see I’m really struggling to see how that’s the case? What do you want from me? I’m just a guy who works at a bookstore, whose boyfriend cheated on him because I wasn’t good enough. I’m messy and my life is fucked up enough as it is. You could have picked anyone. Why me?”
He was quiet, studying my expression. He looked almost sad. “Is that all you think of yourself? I see more than that when I look at you.” His eyes lit up in a way that both concerned me and reminded me of the chemistry that had initially drawn me to him.
Fuck. Eric was right. I really did have a broken picker.
Fortunately, my terror outweighed any attraction as he started to approach again. Clearly, the keys weren’t a big threat to this space monster.
No, not a space monster! That was impossible.
“Look,” I said. “This stuff about my phone, you’re wrong. Like, yeah, we enjoy our phones, and sure, they might have some influence on us, but not in the way you’re thinking. We’re freely choosing to obsess over our phones, and maybe that’s a waste of time, but it’s not trying to hurt or control us. And…and…” Tears started sliding down my cheeks. I was so damn desperate not to die.
His gaze drifted, as though for the first time, he was reconsidering his delusion.
“You’re telling the truth,” he said, which wasn’t what I was expecting.
“How do you know that?”
“Your heart was beating faster when you lied before and said you were thirsty so you could get out.”
How could he know how fast my heart was beating? Could he really be an alien? No, that couldn’t be true!
“So at least I know you believe what you’re saying about Chelsea,” he added.
Was he really still on about my damn phone?
“There isn’t even just Chelsea,” I said. “There’s Siri, and Google, and God knows what else.”
“Warring technologies within the same group?”
“No? Yes?” That wasn’t too far off. “But again, not in the way you’re talking about. Just fun devices we use to make our lives easier, and maybe sometimes harder, but it doesn’t control us.”
“Oh…” He searched around the room. “Well, if that is true, then this all seems like a lot of fuss over nothing.”
“That’s a fucking understatement.”
His brow creased. “So you use this device because it makes your life easier? It’s a convenience?”
“Sometimes it’s an annoying way for Mom to get ahold of me.” It wasn’t the time to crack a joke, but it was like some part of me wanted to convince me this situation wasn’t as dangerous as it so obviously was.
He turned around, reached into a space in the wall, and retrieved a strange-looking cup—almost like a child’s version of an amoeba mug. As he approached, I realized it was the water I’d asked for. He passed it to me, and I stared at the water, uncertain if I could trust it after the guy already drugged me. Although at this point, maybe it would have been better for me to have been unconscious.
I braved a sip, the water soothing as it slid down my throat. Then I set the cup on the table where I’d been restrained only minutes earlier.
He didn’t seem nearly as threatening as he had in the alley. If anything, the way he glanced around, it seemed he was…maybe embarrassed about his conclusion.
And maybe I was falling for this delusion, but what if it wasn’t that? What if he really was an alien?
Oh, what the hell had I gotten myself into?
9
DADDY
I knew better than to entirely trust Twink’s assertions about his phone, not when there was a possibility Chelsea’s method to control his mind had safeguards in place in case someone tried to influence him. Yet there was also my awareness of the many deficits in my own reasoning abilities that could have easily led me to misunderstand the situation. Even worse than the embarrassment, it seemed this body suffered as a result of my possible misstep—I feared I had lost Twink’s trust.