Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Great. Every time I tried to create a distance between myself and this man, he seemed determined to close it.
“Yay,” I said, and hoped he didn’t detect the level of sarcasm I knew was dripping from my voice.
I left the pool area and went straight to the changing rooms. I pulled the key from around my ankle and opened my locker. The key was mine as I paid for my gym membership. Seeing as I was on the run from my family, I rented a small apartment, and any money I had I spent on essentials only. I only ever had enough belongings to pack in a small bag, so I could be on the road in less than thirty minutes. The gym membership was a luxury, but seeing as I didn’t plan to buy ornaments, or anything like a TV or a car, there was no point in worrying about the expense. Also, this helped toward the bigger plan—getting into shape and changing what I looked like, so it would help me hide longer.
To me, it sounded like a genius plan. On paper, it probably made me sound like a nutjob, which I could handle. I was more than happy for people to be afraid of me.
“Oh my, did you see what he looked like? Those arms … I bet they can show a woman a time or two.”
“Arms, come on, girl, we’ve got to talk about the man’s hands. His arms don’t matter, but it’s all about the hands. He could touch me any day.”
“What is his name?”
Several women had entered the changing room, and I could imagine who they were talking about.
“I think it’s Peter. I don’t know his last name. That man does not need a last name. All he needs to do is help me forget what my last name is.”
There was a chorus of laughter.
I finished getting changed and stepped out of the small cubicle.
The ladies stopped talking, but I didn’t pay them any attention. When I left, the door closed on a round of giggles. I didn’t want to know what they were giggling at.
Peter was standing at the main desk, cell phone in his hand, one leg crossed over the other. He’d also changed out of the clothes that were soaking wet. He was in a new set of sweatpants and another shirt with the gym’s logo, which was an image of a treadmill with the initial, “CF.” Carl Fields was the owner of the gym. I heard him talking in detail about how hard it was to think of a logo.
I think his date hadn’t been quite so impressed with his idea of dinner conversation. It was kind of funny, but so boring.
“You’re ready,” he said, standing tall.
“What’s your last name?” I asked, and immediately regretted it. One of my key rules was not to ask questions. The less I knew, the better. The less I wanted to know, it meant others wouldn’t want to know my business either, and that was the way I wanted to keep it.
“Shadow. Peter Shadow,” he said. “What’s your last name, Niamh?”
I opened my mouth about to tell him. “Wait, how do you know my first name?”
“Well, besides the fact that it’s on your uniform.” He pointed toward my uniform. “It’s a pretty name and I’ve made sure to always remember a pretty girl’s name.”
This made me open my mouth and then close it. Never had I been called “pretty.” He had to be lying.
Rather than smile, I felt myself frowning even more. “Niamh Long,” I said. It wasn’t my name.
It had taken me several nights, constantly repeating my name—Niamh Long, Niamh Long—until it became second nature to say that name. I wanted Niamh Byrne to die, and the only way to do that was to make sure she didn’t exist.
Stepping around him, I wanted to slap myself silly. Breaking rules because of listening to a bunch of giggling women. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard them drooling over a guy. When they had their fun with Peter Shadow, then they’d move on to whatever flavor they wanted next. I’d seen the way this went.
Even though I hadn’t been in town long, I’d been there long enough to see the trend. They liked shiny new toys, and Peter was a prime toy.
We stepped out of the gym, and I liked the fact that it was only a short walk toward the diner, and it would be a lot faster by car. But anyone attempting to lose weight wouldn’t use a car, right? I didn’t like the thought of making small talk, that was when mistakes were made.
I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just didn’t want to make small talk with anyone. It was easier this way.
“You know, I’m starting to get the sense that I have done something to upset you,” he said.