Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75792 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
My father catches her just in time, her body hanging by a simple grasp of his fingers around her ankle. But he refuses to let go, even when she begs him to.
Because they are married.
Because my father needs her to continue his House.
Our house.
The house that will one day become mine to rule … Over a pile of blood and bones.
Chapter 7
Amelia
Present
“Are you really sure I can stay?” I ask as I put down my stuff on Jamie’s table. “I don’t want to get in your way.”
“Oh no, it’s no problem,” she says, waving it off as if it’s no big deal. “You’re not getting in my way at all.”
“But I won’t be able to pay this back,” I add, swallowing down the shame. “At least, not until after I’ve gotten a job.”
She glares at me from the kitchen. “And?”
A blush spreads across my cheeks. I don’t even know how to respond to her generosity. “T-thank you,” I mutter.
“Thank me after you’re back on your feet.” She winks. “So … do you want milk or sugar in your coffee?”
“Neither, please,” I reply, wearing a big smile on my face. “Honestly, I can’t thank you enough for letting me stay here.”
“What else are friends for?” she says, putting two cups of steaming hot coffee down on the dining table. “Besides, I’d expect you to do the same for me if I was ever in trouble.”
“Of course,” I say. “Always.”
She smiles as we sit down at the table. “So … I don’t mean to be nosy, but what happened?”
I look down at my cup and stare at the swirling coffee, wondering how I’m going to explain. “Ah … Chris and I had an argument. I just couldn’t stay there any longer. I ran, and … well, I’ve been on and off the streets.” It’s a little bit of truth but with a lot of lies in it. And I hate having to do that, but what choice do I have?
“Oh, honey, you should’ve come to me sooner. I would’ve helped,” she says, putting down her coffee cup.
I look away, ashamed of lying when she’s so generous. “I was just really, really scared.”
“I can only imagine,” she says, her voice full of worry.
“It’ll be fine once I get back on my feet,” I say, trying to ease the tension. “Is … is my job at the library still available?”
She makes a face and smashes her lips together, then shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”
I nod a few times. “Figured.”
“They needed to fill the spot as soon as possible. It was too much of a workload for a single person,” she adds.
I rub the back of my neck. “Oh yeah, I totally understand.”
“But what about your bank account? Can’t you access that to get some cash at least?” she asks.
I don’t know how to respond. What do I tell her? That some crazy sin-obsessed billionaire is keeping all my accounts and my phone hostage until I return to be his pet again? No, this lie sounds more credible than that story.
“Chris …” I mutter.
“Wow.”
“It’s just been very rough.” I don’t want to divulge too much information. I’m afraid she might force me to go to the police, and I can’t tell them the truth either.
“And he’s hogging your apartment all by himself?” She makes a tsk sound. “I shouldn’t be surprised. He always seemed like an asshole to me. But I never really knew just how much.”
“I know.” I roll my eyes even though I know it’s not the whole truth. “I should’ve realized he was bad for me a long time ago.”
She reaches out and grabs my hand. “Honey … When we’re in the dark, we just don’t see the light. That’s just how it is. But you still managed to get out, and you should be proud of yourself.”
“Yeah, but at what cost?” I sigh. “My home, my money … my job.”
I take a sip of the coffee to hide my own panic.
“Well, there must be something we can do. You could go to the police,” she says.
“No.”
My swift response makes her raise her brows.
“I just don’t want to have anything to do with him anymore,” I add. “I can’t. I just can’t do it.”
Her face softens. “Oh, honey …”
I put down my coffee. “I wish I didn’t have to make the choice …”
“You did what you had to do,” she says, and she squeezes my hand tight. “You did it to protect yourself.”
We have a moment together when suddenly the door opens. A little girl of about eleven years old enters the apartment and takes off her coat before she sees me, which is when she abruptly stops moving.
“Mimi, this is Amelia. She’ll be staying with us for a while,” Jamie says, cocking her head to look at the girl. “C’mon. Say hi.”