Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Keep wondering,” I said, glaring at her as my cheek and rib throbbed.
“I guess it doesn’t matter. Just tell me where the papers are so we can be done here. I have a house on the beach waiting to be snatched off the market.”
“How can you be so cold?” I asked. “He saw you as a mother figure. And you’re going to get him murdered.”
“He had everything. While me and Tom, we slaved away day in and day out to barely have two nickels to rub together at the end of the month.”
“He had money,” I agreed. “But he didn’t have a mother.”
“It wasn’t my job to be that to him.”
“I’d be impressed with your ability to compartmentalize things. If it wasn’t so evil. You watched him grow up.”
“Not my problem he went into the family business.”
“Wow.”
“It’s amazing how motivating a couple million dollars can be. And now you are the only one standing between me and the life of luxury. I won’t let you stand in my way much longer.” She paused her pacing to look down at me for a long minute. “Matt has barely been in the grave. And you’re already shacking up with another man.”
“Your husband was still alive when you screwed around on him.”
“Did Matt tell you that?” she asked, jaw going tight.
“Your sister, actually. You shouldn’t make your margaritas so strong if you want people to keep your secrets.”
God, it felt good to snap back at her.
After years of swallowing back my true feelings, of letting her say horrible things about me, but never clapping back because I didn’t want to piss off Matthew.
“Your other sister mentioned making out with Tom once on Christmas Day ten years ago.”
That certainly got her attention.
But she was quick to squash the shock and anger down.
“You’re not going to distract me. Where are the files?”
What was my play here?
If I kept playing dumb, she was going to bring Danny in. And I really, really didn’t want that to happen.
If I could just buy some time, maybe Nico could find me.
There was the one camera in the hallway. Once he got home to find me gone, surely he would have had Zeno checked the cameras.
From there, he would have the whole family running down leads. Surely, someone would be able to see what a great place the garage at the port would be to take someone against their will. In a place like the city, there weren’t many locations you could take someone to potentially torture and murder them.
He would come.
I just had to give him a chance to save me.
“Where are they?” Ronny yelled, lunging toward me.
And suddenly the idea came to me.
A rush of uncertainty and embarrassment flooded my system. I choked it back, sucked in as deep a breath as possible, then screamed.
Not a normal ‘don’t hurt me’ scream. But a blood-curdling, horror movie scream.
Ronny jumped back, brows scrunched.
“Don’t eat me!” I yelled, swatting at the air in front of me.
In many dangerous situations, the answer to safety was simply to be too crazy to mess with.
“Eat you?” Ronny repeated, tone uncertain.
“No! No! Leave me alone!” I yelled, throwing myself onto my back and kicking my legs out. “You and your beasts.” I turned to the shadows at the side of the room. “Please. Please, leave me alone. You don’t want to do this. No. No!”
“Christ,” Ronny hissed, dropping her cigarette and snuffing it out with her toe. “Should have dosed you myself. Danny’s always going overboard. Well, enjoy your delusions,” she said, grabbing her flashlight and walking away.
I kept yelling and mumbling and growling for long enough that I was sure no one was listening anymore.
Then I collapsed, crying out the pain that had been stabbing at me with every movement.
The rough ground was biting into my cheek. But I couldn’t find the strength to lift my head.
The adrenaline that surged during the confrontation seemed sapped. And all the nice, pain-relieving benefits of it slipped away as well, leaving me hyper-aware of the banging in my head, the stabbing sensation in my eyes, the throbbing on my cheek, and the shooting pain in my ribs.
The nausea returned as well, a constant rolling, then retching, but with no relief.
At some point, I pushed myself onto my back again. And as I stared at the darkness, the shadows seemed to creep closer, starting to dance.
Maybe the hallucination act wasn’t so much of an act after all.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ground myself, to focus on what was real. My pain. The hard floor beneath me. My hammering heartbeat. The cold sweat on my face and neck.
Slowly but surely, the panic crept away.
I layered in my focus on my legs, willing them to cooperate, to bend and brace.
Little by little, they did.
Was it slow? Did they feel fat and rubbery? Did each small movement seem to sap more of my energy?