Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Alarm bells go off in my head. Is he going to kill me and bury my body out here somewhere?
“What’s that for?”
Abe opens the chamber and looks inside then holds his hand out to catch six bullets. When he lifts his head, his eyes seem to glow.
Chapter Six
Lauren
My mind leaps irrationally to Abe Oakley is going to kill me.
My body responds with another massive dose of adrenaline, making my heart pound and my legs twitch and strain against the tape around my ankles.
Abe continually provokes actual feels in my body.
I see a trace of amusement on his cocky face. “Relax, Pearls. It’s not for you.”
“Who’s it for?” My voice raises in pitch. “What’s your plan, here, Abe?”
He reloads the gun and tucks it in the back waistband of his jeans. He stands and puts on a t-shirt, then counts the money.
His phone rings, and he answers. It must be his brother calling back. After a few short Okays and Got its, Abe thanks whoever it is and ends the call.
My iPhone beeps with a message. We both look at where it sits on the end table in the turquoise glitter case.
“That will be Lincoln,” I tell him in a rush. “He’s going to freak out if I don’t come home soon. He’s probably already freaking because I didn’t answer his last text.”
Abe drops the bullets in his pocket and pushes a hand through his hair. He seems different than he is at school. Less sure of himself. Still an asshole but without the derisive edge. This is him without so much swagger.
“Yeah, that’s the thing.” He looks at me. His eyes are gray blue–a darker version than his wolf’s. “It’ll be a couple hours–maybe three. So what can you tell him that he would believe?”
I stare at Abe. Does he really think I’m going to help him out here? Why would I? I’m literally the captive.
He seems to read my thoughts because he picks up my mom’s letter and stalks toward me. “You want this back?” He raises his brows.
“Give it to me,” I snap, tipping the chair forward like I’m lunging at him.
“Think of an excuse. A good one.”
My mind spins. Twins are great at reading each other without words. “Let me talk to him.”
Abe walks over to the stove. He turns on one of the gas burners, and it clicks a few times then flares to life.
I’m still worrying about how to get a message to Lincoln, but all thoughts halt when he holds up the letter from my mom. “Are you thinking, Lauren?”
I lunge against the duct tape as panic floods my veins. “No!”
“Think fast, Lauren. Make it good. Or the letter goes up in flames.”
“Tell him I’m at the library!” I shriek. Tears sting my eyes. “Please. Don’t burn it.”
He doesn’t remove the paper from danger. “Is he going to buy it?”
“Yes! I love the library. It’s my happy place.”
Abe still doesn’t move. He considers me, his eyes narrowed.
“I’ll help you–I won’t try anything. I promise!” I’m speaking fast now, desperate for him to move the paper away from the flame.
He does.
He flicks the burner off and gets the phone. He turns it to my face to unlock it, then squints at the screen.
“Is there something wrong with your eyes?”
I see a tic of irritation around his mouth before his upper lip rises in scorn. “I’m an alpha wolf. We have perfect eyesight.”
“Alpha wolf.” I turn that over in my mind, more pieces of the puzzle snapping together. The way the kids at school worship him. The way he acts domineering and aggressive. Different from how he is right now.
It’s an alpha status thing. A front.
A wolf thing.
Abe lets out a frustrated sound of self-disgust, like he’s pissed he showed me more than he meant to again.
The fact is, the more I know about him, the more sense I’m making of this weird, fucked-up town, the less I hate him.
He’s the same as any student at Landhower Prep–fronting to stay cool in front of the other kids, trying to stay out of trouble with his parents and other adults.
But I know I am right about his eyes because his jaw flexes, and he blinks several times at the screen before he seems able to even see what he’s looking at. He finally gets the text chat open and replies to Lincoln.
“Why is he so worried about you?”
I give Abe a mulish look. “None of your business.”
“Why weren’t you at school today?” He flicks the letter open and reads the date. “June of last year. When did she die?”
A tidal wave of grief rises up in my chest–so much I feel like my head will explode.
“Was it today?” Abe demands. For some reason, he sounds pissed, but I can’t fathom what his problem is.
I drop my head back and stare at the ceiling without seeing anything.