Total pages in book: 225
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 218500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1093(@200wpm)___ 874(@250wpm)___ 728(@300wpm)
Flustered, I run my freehand through my hair. “It’s a general, you won’t like what happens thing. Like what he did when you were there for breakfast. So, I really don’t know.”
“Hm. Empty threats?”
“The threats to Adam were… a little more specific. He threatened to share secrets. Don’t ask what because it’s not something anyone can know. But he had a bodyguard hold us at gunpoint that night he convinced Adam to end our relationship.” I drop my voice even lower. “He’s dug far back into me, knows a lot. Knows a lot about Adam. Told me he even has files on my birth parents. So I wouldn’t say empty threats. I just don’t know how far he’d actually go.”
“Holy,” she whispers.
“Find out anything else about him, his history?” I ask.
“About him and his family? It’s all shady. Money. Power. Corruption. But nothing solid. Rumors. Lots of rumors of their ability to make problems go away in a variety of unsavory ways. Nobody wants to say anything specific.”
“I’ll message you tonight,” I say. “But please be careful. I don’t want you in his sights. Now that Adam and I are over, you’re the one he’s going to-”
“Don’t worry about me. I’m a big girl and I’m not afraid of skeletons falling out of my closet.”
“But Lan…”
“No. Really. Okay, chickie, so if you show up tomorrow at the city hall, I’ve got you unless you give me the high sign. If you don’t do those things, I’ll know to pull whatever triggers I can gather for the arsenal. Yeah?”
“Okay,” I reply, doubtfully.
“Any snags or more I need to know we’ll talk when you send me tonight’s proof of life. Toodles.”
She’s hung up.
I exhale. She’s determined she’ll figure out a plan. What sort of plan, I’m not sure. And right now, we’re on Derek’s phone so is this call not being recorded? Or will he have access to everything we’ve just discussed? Did he wire this place this morning and has my conversation just been recorded? I don’t know but wouldn’t put it past him.
I step out of the bathroom; he’s still outside.
He turns around, still leaned against the railing, taking me in from toes to eyes.
He’s thinking about fucking me.
He’s about to make a move.
I feel myself torn between retreating and… not. His expression is tied into my body’s mechanics or something because I’m affected.
I’d have to be made of stone to not be somewhat affected by all the grand gestures. By all the little things, too, which add up to a lot. But the bottom line is that he’s threatening and dangerous. He’s manipulative. Adding that to his clearly warped view of reality and I just can’t allow myself to slide into mania with him. It could go horribly wrong, couldn’t it?
Crazy though, the only thing he’d change in this house is the same thing I’d change. I’d hoped it wasn’t as bad in person as it was in the pictures, but it’s worse. The neon green has to go.
I mean… it would have to go if I was committed to living here. But I’m not. I can’t be.
Loving a house and being likeminded on not having the master bathroom and walk-in closet neon green isn’t enough of a reason to believe anything here is viable. What sane person buys a house for me after all he’s done?
Though, he has gotten what he wants so far by pushing, hasn’t he? The swoony psycho wanted to bed me. He did. He wanted to break me and Adam up. He did. He wanted me to move in with him. I have. He’s gotten sex every time he wants it from me. He’s even taken me to the point where I’m resigned for sex and then rips the rug out from under me and leaves me on the edge and almost disappointed. Okay, more than almost. He’s clearly accustomed to getting what he wants.
He wants me to marry him at City Hall a half hour from here at 11:30 tomorrow.
Will he get his way again?
What could he do to me and my loved ones if I dig my heels in and refuse? Actually call his bluff for the first time? What if I escape when his back is turned and hide?
My mind races as I consider possibilities and then I’m turning my back to him so I can go back into the bathroom. I shut the door and lock it. My eyes land on the phone in my hand, and my thumb slides across the screen to the next page of apps. My eyes do a sweep of the screen. Another swipe. A visual sweep. This last page has a folder that has my name on it. Inside are two icons. One is a car. The other is a house.
He’ll expect me out in a minute, but I can’t stop myself from bopping the house icon while I have a minute alone with his phone. My heart skips a beat when I realize I’m looking at a live feed of the kitchen. Of Adam and Craig.