Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“That’s awful,” he says, moving even closer. My toes curl tightly, as though willing me to run. “You should’ve told me, you silly goose. I could’ve helped. You know I’d die before I let anything happen to you.”
My fingernails itch, my fingernails. I didn’t even know that was possible until just now. It’s like my hand is giving me a signal to scratch down his face until he’s bleeding so much he can’t see and chase after me anymore.
I thought I was free of him.
How naive can I be?
“So,” he goes on, when I say nothing, “are you going to invite me inside?”
I want to scream at him, to laugh at him, to tell him he’s deranged if he thinks he’s ever stepping foot inside my apartment. I could tell him about the restraining order, but it’s never worked before… he just laughs as though I’ve told him a joke, shaking his head as though it must be some mistake.
Or he gets angry, sulky.
Pathetic men can be dangerous when they sulk.
Instead, I make my expression as disappointed as I can muster, shaking my head slowly. “I don’t think I can, Jerry. I’m sorry. The place is a complete mess. The walls are being treated for mold. I’m staying in the storage closet on a grimy mattress. It’s the only part of the apartment that’s safe for me to stay in.”
This is all nonsense, made-up madness. I don’t even know if it makes sense. Would the storage closet be safe from the mold if the rest of the apartment wasn’t?
But it’s the only thing that comes to me as I stand beneath his towering six and a half foot form.
Some men – like my secret soldier crush I’ve been fantasizing about all day – hold their height well. But Jerry has always been the lanky type. And now he’s packed on some mass, he looks cruel, as if he’s ready to cause harm at a moment’s notice.
“Hmm.” He tilts his head in that disconcerting way of his. It’s like he’s trying to see into my soul. “Is that the complete truth, Zoey? You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
“Never—”
“Because,” he cuts me off, his tone getting deeper now, snappier, “I’ve had my apartment treated for mold before. And I wasn’t allowed to stay there, not in the closet, nowhere. In fact, if you think about it – which you clearly fucking haven’t – that doesn’t make much sense. How would a storage closet protect you from all those nasty chemicals?”
Tears rise and prick my eyes, trying to proclaim me weak. That’s what he wants, for me to show him some weakness so he can feel like the big bad predator.
“Well?” he snaps.
“Please,” I whimper, as the façade falls away. “Jerry, I don’t want this. Please.”
“Don’t want what, my precious silly goose?” he whispers breathily.
“This.”
“Me? You don’t want me? Remember, you can’t lie to me. I can read you better than anyone. I saw the way you used to look at me, you horny dirty fucking cunt.”
I step back and let out a gasp, fear spearing through me.
I should’ve played along with his game to keep him calm…
But how far does that go?
Does that mean I have to invite him into my apartment and play along with whatever sick games he’s dreamed up?
Does that mean I have to be the person he thinks I am?
“Where are your keys, Zoey?”
“Please…”
“Where. Are. Your. Fucking. Keys. You slut.”
I look around as though one of the apartment doors is going to burst open, as though somebody is going to charge out here and rescue me. But nobody’s ever saved me from Jerry. Not even the police could save me, because he always made sure to never go too far, to make it too complicated for them to arrest and try him.
Without waiting for an answer, he snatches his hand out and grabs my purse. He wrenches it roughly, leaving me no choice but to let it go unless I want to be dragged along with it.
He shakes his head as he roots around in it. “Why do you have to make things so difficult all the time?”
“How did you find me?” I whisper, fighting back a sob.
“Pure chance, as it happens.” He chuckles grimly. “I was passing by your diner and I saw you flirting with your boss. That wasn’t very clever, was it, when you belong to me? Oh well. I’ll make you pay for it. Ah, here we go.”
He pulls out the keys from the bag, jangling them like a prize.
“Let’s get you inside where I can show you how much you mean to me. You’ve kept me waiting for far, far too long.”
I take a step back, terror gripping me as the full force of his threat hammers into me.
“Please,” I try again. “Jerry, I don’t want this.”