Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62056 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 207(@300wpm)
“Not hungry,” I say. Glaring at my laptop, I’m hoping I’ll get an email soon. Anything would be good right now as long as it’s one step closer to finding her.
My precious fucking princess … I never knew how badly it would affect me to have her disappear. I have to admit I underestimated her growing influence over my sanity. She’s been worming her way into my mind and heart, and now that she’s gone, she left a gaping hole I can’t otherwise fill. Not food, not sex, not even money can make me happy right now.
Hell, I’d probably trade my soul to get her back.
Am I that addicted? Yes, though I’d never say that out loud.
“But you haven’t eaten anything since yesterday,” Jill says, grabbing the plate. “Please?” she begs. “It’d make me very happy.”
I take a deep breath and stare at her before grabbing a piece of toast, taking a big bite, and then placing it down on the plate again. “There. Happy?”
She nods and smiles.
“Can you leave me alone now?”
The smile disappears from her face. I don’t want to be so mean, and I don’t know why I always have to be. Maybe it’s in my nature. Or maybe I’ve grown into a sadistic asshole over the years. There’s only so much pain the soul can tolerate before it snaps.
The same must be true for Charlotte.
Maybe I pushed her too far, and my cruelty made her run away from me. Maybe Jill was right in saying I should’ve been more kind to her. But it’s too late to change what I’ve done now. Charlotte’s gone and so has my will to even fucking eat.
I look at Jill and grab her hand. “Have you even eaten?”
“Umm …” Her cheeks flush. “I didn’t want to if you don’t—”
“Ridiculous,” I reply, releasing her hand. “Go grab some food. Just because I’m not hungry doesn’t mean you have to starve yourself. Go. Eat.”
“Of course,” Jill says, taking the plate. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
She hurries off as I simmer in my chair. Fiddling with a pen in my hands, I wonder if I’ll ever see my Charlotte again. I never imagined I’d get so attached to her. But she’s constantly on my mind, and it drives me mad with rage and fear.
Fear of losing her forever … of her being in someone else’s clutches.
The thought alone makes me clench my teeth.
Someone knocks on my door. “If you don’t have anything new to report, I don’t wanna hear it.”
“Sorry, sir, but I do.” It’s Nick, and I immediately turn around. He has a young adult with him, a boy probably barely of age with red eyes and a puffy face.
“Who’s this?” I ask.
“He responded to one of our online alerts. Said he had a tip.”
“Well, what is it?” I ask as he fiddles with his dirty jacket.
“Um … the alert said I’d get paid. Is that true?” the guy asks.
I get up from my chair, still firmly clutching the pen, and point it at him as if it’s some sort of weapon. “Are you sure that’s the first thing you should be asking?” I shove the pen into his chest so hard, it leaves a dent.
He gulps. “I saw her …”
“Where?” I say through gritted teeth.
“At the park,” he says, holding up his hands.
“What fucking park?” I growl.
“Vondelpark,” he says hurriedly as though he’s afraid I might puncture his skin with the pen. He isn’t wrong.
“Well, I saw her lying on a bed in one of the abandoned homes under the bridge first, but she ran away from me.” He shrugs. “I think I accidentally chased her off.”
“So? Where did she go?” I ask. “Was that it?”
“No, I found her lying on a bench at the park, so I placed a blanket on top of her. Figured she needed a little help.”
I pull the pen away and close my eyes for a second. “When was this?”
“Last night.”
“And you only came to me now?” I grab his shirt. “Don’t you know how important she is?”
“Sorry, dude, I didn’t know,” he says, shaking me off. “Besides, I didn’t see any of your alerts on Facebook until this morning.”
I narrow my eyes. “Facebook, huh?” I mutter. Guess the platform could be of some use to me in spreading the message of her disappearance and for getting tips.
“Is she still there? Did you keep an eye on her?” I ask him.
“No, she isn’t. I did come to check on her early in the morning, but she’d already gone off with some other dude.”
“What?” I make a fist with my hand and grab his shirt again, unable to contain myself. “What dude? What did he look like? Where did they go?”
“I don’t know, dude. He was black and tall … oh, and he had round glasses. But I don’t know where they went. I didn’t follow them.”