Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 616(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“How you feelin’?” he asked, his breath tickling the back of my neck. “Any better?”
“A little,” I replied in a whisper. “I think that medicine your friend got is working.”
“You say that like you’re surprised,” he said with a small chuckle. “It’s antibiotics, Cec, just like you’d get from your doctor.”
“Bought in some back alley,” I muttered.
“Since when are you too snobby for illegal meds?” he asked, a smile in his voice. “Pretty sure my pop supplied you with quite a few of them when we were kids.”
“That was different,” I argued. “Number one, I knew Doc. Number two, I was a kid and didn’t know any better. Number three, I pay through the nose for insurance so I don’t have to buy black market antibiotics.”
“Well, we just saved you a co-pay and the cost of prescription meds.”
I didn’t reply, because he kind of had a point. Instead, I finally said out loud what had been playing on a loop in my head for hours.
“I’m scared for Rose,” I confessed, closing my eyes. “I know they’re doing everything they can to find her, and I’m sure she’s fine, but I’m terrified.”
“I know you are,” he replied, kissing my head.
“She doesn’t even like me,” I said quietly enough that I could pretend he might not hear me. “She wouldn’t give me a second thought if the roles were reversed.”
“You don’t know that,” he argued.
“Yeah, I do.”
Mark was quiet for a while as he let that sink in.
“Does she not remember what you did for her?” he finally asked, his entire body throbbing with tension.
“I’m sure she does,” I replied.
“Then what the fuck?” He scoffed. “Jesus, if it wasn’t for you, she’d be dead.”
“Don’t say that,” I said quickly. “Don’t.”
“You know it’s true.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, maybe you should,” he said angrily. “Because I’m tired of this shit.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” I argued.
“Jesus Christ, Cecilia,” he said with a long sigh. “Why the fuck don’t you stand up for yourself?”
“Because it doesn’t matter,” I replied. “They’re always going to think whatever they want about me. It hasn’t changed in fifteen years, and it’s not going to change now.”
He growled against my neck, but thankfully let it go. I didn’t want to talk about the way my family viewed me. I’d done that before, told him all of my secrets, all of my hurts, every bad thing they’d said when they thought I couldn’t hear them. He didn’t get that from me anymore.
As I slowly drifted off into a fretful sleep, I relaxed into his body. This was the only thing he got from me—the comfort of my body against his while we slept. We both knew he didn’t even deserve that much.
* * *
I had no idea if it was hours or just minutes later when I woke up to Mark’s hand over my mouth and his lips at my ear.
“They’re here,” he said softly. “Grab Olive and get up.”
I nodded, and as soon as he let me go, I was climbing off the bed with Olive in my arms. The bedroom door was still shut, and the only light illuminating the room came from inside the closet.
“How do you—”
“Silent alarm,” he said, cutting me off as he ushered me toward the closet. “See it in the corner?”
Up near the ceiling was a small, blinking white light. If I hadn’t known it was there, I would’ve never noticed it.
“White means they haven’t made it into the house yet,” he said, grabbing my bag off the floor. “We have time.”
“What are you doing?” I asked as he knelt inside the closet.
“Another reason we got this place,” he said as he ran his fingers along the carpet. After a few seconds, he found what he was looking for and pulled, opening a trap door in the floor.
“In,” he ordered.
I looked around the bare closet. “No,” I spat. “I’m not hiding in a fucking closet again.”
“Get in, Cecilia.”
“No, I—”
Mark looked beyond me and cursed. Following his gaze, I watched as the light that had been white only seconds before blinked red.
“Get the fuck in,” he ordered again. “Or I swear to God, I’ll knock your ass out and put you in.”
“What does red mean?” I asked as I stepped toward the opening.
“Get in.”
I scrambled to the opening and sat down, my feet hanging over the ledge. The floor beneath me was close, and I slid down until I was standing, half in and half out of the small space.
“What does red mean?” I asked again, my heart pounding.
“There’s a reason we put you in this room,” he said quickly, dropping my bag in the hole. “Sit down.”
I crouched down and curled my legs until I was seated, staring at his face.
“What does red mean?”
“Stay in here until I come for you,” he ordered. “Don’t fuckin’ move.”