Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82949 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Oh God.
Clean white walls, plaster lines carved into the high ceilings, a large bay window to the side with net curtains hanging over, a super king four-post bed finished in gloss white, two relaxed lounge chairs, and a red rug in the center at the foot of the bed. There’s also a dresser tucked to the side of the door, right beside a LED lamp that’s about five-foot high.
“What the fuck!” I pull the sheet up to my face but smack my chin at the same time.
Maybe Cooper brought us here. I quickly turn to check the rest of the bed, but it’s empty. Clean and unslept in. My phone. I need my phone. I start rummaging through the marble low-set drawers on either side of the bed before moving to the tallboy dresser. There are clothes neatly folded inside and eloquently organized. Maybe this is where we ended up last night and I slept in some random girl’s bed. Judging by her clothes, I’d say she’s the same age as me, even with similar style. My head thrums to a beat so hard I wince, hissing when pain cuts through the center of my brain. What the fuck did I drink last night?
Slamming the top drawer closed, ignoring the underwear and clothing, I turn around and lean against the dresser, slowly dropping to my knees to check beneath the bed.
Fuck. Come on. I never drink. Ever—I stop my train of thought, pulling memories up from last night. It’s not until I’m sitting at the end of the bed that I realize…
I can’t remember anything from last night.
Closing my eyes, I squeeze my thighs so hard my nails bite into my flesh. I remember parking the Jeep. Walking down the beach with Cooper in hand. I remember Dion fucking Quinn. I remember wanting to leave. I left. Got home, invited to The Game! Oh my God. I—my eyes fly open.
Nothing. I remember nothing past the hot girl clicking her fingers and then lights out.
Making my way toward the little bathroom that’s off the bedroom, I pause when I see the setup. A single clawfoot, deep bathtub sits in the center of the space, no shower. Just a bathtub. It’s big too, I could almost call it a spa. The cabinets are filled with products. Shampoos, conditioners, soaps, face wash, and even makeup. Every seal is unbroken. Picking up the shampoo, I examine each one until I’ve checked them all.
All sealed. Unused.
I release the bottle of Drunk Elephant and step away from it like I’ve been caught touching something I shouldn’t. Fear leaves a dusting of goose bumps down my spine. I spin around as I feel eyes crawl over my skin, but there’s no one there.
Empty.
Leaving the bathroom, I find the bedroom door and sigh out a breath of relief as my hand comes to the crystal knob and I twist it to the side. Jarring it back, it locks instantly, and I shove it forward to see if I’ve pushed it the wrong way, but the same thing happens.
I bang my fist on the door. “Hey! What the fuck, Cooper! This isn’t funny!”
I’m going to kill him this time. One time when we were in surf camp—this was also around the time that Cooper told his mom to go fuck herself and that he wasn’t into surfing like she was when she was his age—Cooper thought it would be funny to replace my Sex Wax with coconut oil. I slid right off my board with both legs down in the splits before plummeting into the water. Everyone laughed, Cooper included, and there on, it started.
Our ridiculous friendship pranks. But I love them, even when I’m hating them, but this time, it doesn’t feel the same.
I bang again. “Cooper!”
I wince when a sharp sting splinters from my ribs, and I fall backward, my hand clutching the side of my torso. It’s the first time I notice what I’m wearing, which is ridiculous. It should have been the first thing I noticed.
White lace curves over my shoulders, dipping down between my breasts. Little silk shorts cover my ass, and wool socks cover my feet. My hair feels brushed, my skin scrubbed as if I’d showered.
Falling onto the foreign bed, I try to scan over my memories from last night. I remember being initiated into The Game…driving a Porsche…I shoot to my feet. Oh my God, something happened after she took us to the back. Was I still here? I wouldn’t know since she didn’t bring us into the actual house.
I move to the curtains, desperate to grasp on to what little control I feel I have. Spreading the fabric wide, my breath catches in my throat when I see the cage outside the window. Nothing. Metal barriers are stapled into the windowpanes outside, and even though I know I won’t be able to open them, I tug on the handles to see if they’re loose.