Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“There are too many variables,” he said. “I mean, is this man bad? Is he good? Will he hurt you? What kind of bear is it? Is it a polar bear? Because if it was, I’d rather leave you taking your chances with a serial killer than a polar bear.”
I snickered at his words, but closed my eyes, my body sinking further into Auden’s back.
But another question popped into my head, momentarily forcing me to open my eyes once again to speak.
“Can I ask you another question?” I asked into the darkness, tracing circles along the middle of his spine.
He groaned into his pillow, then flipped so his face was toward me before saying, “Yes, I’d stay with you if you turned into a worm. No, I wouldn’t ever leave you if you got fat. No, you’re not fat. Yes, I want this to go somewhere.”
I found myself smiling into the darkness.
“I wasn’t going to ask about that last part,” I said. “But thank you for confirming it for me anyway.”
He sighed and laid his head back in its original position.
“What I was going to ask…”
I let out a squeal when one second, I was facing him, and the next he had me face down in the bed.
“If you have this much energy,” he growled as he yanked my panties from my body. “I guess I’ll have to wear you out enough to get you to stay quiet so I can sleep.”
I didn’t exactly have energy, but what I did have was a spinning mind.
Tomorrow it was expected to get the info back on my DNA test.
And with that information, I could finally process that I’d been stolen from my family. That my ‘father’ wasn’t even my father. That Brock Austin, the man who was supposed to always protect me, had been the one I’d needed protecting from.
Plus, I really, really wanted some answers to all my burning questions.
His mouth went to my neck, and his hand went to my ass, and he pulled me into him.
I was ready to give him anything he wanted, truly I was, but the man was tired.
He had to be up at four in the morning for his first shift at Sunnyvale PD. And I wasn’t about to start something that very well might take a long time to finish.
“Sleep,” I murmured. “We’ll revisit this when you’re not so tired.”
He mumbled something against my throat, but ultimately didn’t push it any further.
For him not to take me when it was so freely offered really showed just how tired he was.
I wrapped my arms around his head, then said one last thing before he went to sleep. “I want this to go somewhere, too.”
I woke up to my phone ringing.
I rolled over in bed, eyes bleary, and stared at the brand new, very confusing phone.
Yesterday at some point, Auden had gotten rid of my phone and tossed it into a trash can outside my house.
He’d gotten me a new phone on his plan, and it had every single bell and whistle available.
Which ultimately made me feel kind of dumb, because my iPhone eleven, that had been working since I’d bought it new in high school, was leaps and bounds better than the one he’d replaced it with.
Even worse, I now had green text message bubbles.
Ew. Android.
“Hello?” I mumbled into the phone, not bothering to look to see who was calling.
“Ms. Brumfield?” a cultured male voice asked.
I sat bolt upright in bed.
“I am she.” I then frowned, wondering if that was the correct way to say I was me.
“This is Jefferson Evador. I’m a special agent with the FBI,” he introduced himself.
My stomach was doing summersaults inside my torso as I said, “Hi.”
“I assume you were aware of the DNA tests that were conducted on you?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered. “I am.”
“The DNA tests were a hundred percent match,” he said. “You are the daughter of Josey and Wayne Semyonov. You’re Marina Semyonov.”
Marina Semyonov. “Call me Maven, please.”
I felt sick to my stomach all of a sudden.
How was this going to work?
What did I do now?
“Of course,” he said. “I’m assuming you have a lot of questions.”
“I do,” I confirmed.
“Where would be best for you to meet?” he asked.
I thought about it for all of two seconds before I said, “Can I get you to call me back in like ten minutes? I need to talk to a friend who can let me know where best to meet.” I paused. “We’re worried that my dad—not dad—will try something, and I want to be in a safe place.”
Like hell I’d tell him where that safe place was, though.
He may be on the up and up, but my dad was the chief of police for Dallas PD. I wasn’t taking any unnecessary chances.
“Of course,” he said. “Ten minutes.”
I got up, snatched up my clothes from the floor, and stepped into them on the run.