Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“I expect,” Mr. E said, “you’ll meet your next deadline. Or your future viewings will only include one of the two videos.”
A knot lodged in her throat. It was a threat he could only use once. If he killed the only two people she loved, she would no longer have the incentive to work for him…or to go on.
“A camera was installed in the bedroom, and the recording is three hours old.” The line disconnected.
The lump in her throat loosened. “Did you hear that? Her bedroom, Van.” For six years, she’d imagined what it might look like.
“I heard.” There was a smile in his voice.
A new message alert popped up. She reached for the screen, colliding with his hand. Chuckling, he offered her the device. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned them forward on the edge of the seat, hunching over the five-inch screen. She tapped the file and the video player opened.
Red and brown whimsical birds winged a painted pattern over the bedroom wall. White lacy curtains draped the window, the shroud of night swallowing any clues that could point to location or climate. A red-checkered quilt blanketed the twin bed and the six-year-old girl within.
Liv’s breath stuttered, and she felt Van smile against her neck.
The girl grinned, front tooth missing, eyes heavy-lidded with trust and love. Her smile was for the blond woman who sat beside her.
Liv wanted to rejoice at seeing her happy and safe, but bitter jealousy was a noose, strangling her air and failing her heart.
He gripped the back of her free hand, lifting it with his and cupping their twined fingers around the screen. Their fingers an inch from the girl’s pixelated face was the closest they’d ever been to touching her. In her mind, she’d named her Mattie.
Warm breath flitted over the curve of her neck, his other arm a brace around her waist. At that moment, his affection was a quietude in shared happiness, their connection suspended in a twinkling of peace.
“She’s beautiful,” he murmured against her skin.
Dark brown hair curled from Mattie’s sweet face and fanned over the pillow. She laughed at something her adoptive mother said and rolled to her side, shut her eyes.
Liv imagined herself a mother, saying silly things to incite that beautiful, toothy smile. She wanted to call her name just to look into her eyes. She wanted to know her real name and hug her when she cried. What would it feel like to pick her up when she fell, to help her with homework, to watch her blow out birthday candles? It would have been a complete life.
A burn erupted behind her eyes, her fingers dragging Van’s up and down the edge of the screen. She breathed deeply, tried to swallow the choking hopelessness.
The blond woman reached for the bedside lamp.
“No.” A whimper escaped Liv’s lips. “Not yet.”
Van moved their twined hands, hugging her arm to her waist. Her other hand held the device in a death grip. Mattie’s shoulders rose and fell with restful breaths, her little hand fisted in the blanket.
The lamp clicked off, drenching the screen in black. The video stopped.
Her heart plummeted. She wanted to restart it, tried to untangle her arm from his, but he held it pinned against her body. She balanced the phablet on her leg to punch the play button, and he snatched it away.
“No replays, Liv.” He forged his voice in an iron tone. “You know the rules.”
Watch it once and delete it. Their phones were monitored and swapped out each time Mr. E visited. No cameras and recordings allowed on the property. No evidence. No replays. No saved or copied files. No distractions from the job.
The job, the job, the job. Focus on the job. Be the job. Or else. It was all she was, a mechanical, hollow nothing that did anything needed to prevent the else.
A violent shudder snapped through her bones. As long as she lived, Mom and Mattie would be in danger. Her death would set them free. So many times, she came close but couldn’t do it. She was a weak, selfish cunt.
She pushed against his chest. “Let me go.”
His arm tightened against her waist. “The child will be fine.”
The child.
“She’s your child.” Spit flew from her lips, her voice rising. “Our child.”
He dropped the device and spun her off his lap. Her back hit the couch, the weight of him holding her down. Her pathetic struggle ended with her arms above her head, shackled by one of his hands, his other pointing at the phablet on the floor. “She’s not our child!” His volume hiked, matching hers. “She belongs to that woman.”
“A woman who probably works for Mr. E!” In six years and twenty-one videos, the blonde’s face had never been revealed. Mattie’s life depended on Liv. A failure during the job or a fracture in the rules promised another accident. Mom had been meant to die in that car. Mattie wouldn’t be so lucky. Only Liv could protect her, and the safest way would be to hide her from Mr. E. She could be anywhere in the world. Liv desperately needed her name.