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)
“Have you fucked him yet?” The potato sack cocked toward Van, and Josh balled his fists.
The silver cut of Van’s eyes sliced through Josh, but it was Liv who answered. “He’s not ready.”
Mr. E’s stillness was deafening, cranking the room’s temperature to scorching. Then those elusive eyeholes shifted to him. “Let’s see how well he kisses.” He curled a gloved finger. “Van.”
Josh fought the heart-pounding urge to swing his bound arms into that stupid mask and stared directly into the soulless eyes. “I will not kiss that man.”
Liv’s finger twitched against her thigh, but she was otherwise unresponsive.
“I see.” Mr. E clasped his hands behind him and spent an eternal moment moving through the room, testing the strength of a dangling chain, nudging the mattress with his boot, and building a terrible anticipation. He returned to Van’s side. “She still sleeps in here.”
A muscle jumped in Van’s jaw. “Yes, sir.”
“You haven’t won her over yet.”
“She’s mine.”
“I’m not arguing that.”
Josh felt like he’d fallen into a state of surrealism, where crap that should never ever make sense was sickeningly transparent. They talked about her like she wasn’t standing right there while ignoring the fact that Josh refused to kiss Van. It was a game, a tactic to mess with his head, and maybe hers, too.
Mr. E snapped his gloved fingers under Liv’s bowed head. “Get his clothes.”
Her stillness unfurled into a steady, flowing stride to the trunk by her mattress. She placed her phone on the bed and returned with the jeans, t-shirt, and boots he’d arrived in. They were just things, inconsequential possessions, yet the sight of them made his heart race.
Mr. E scratched his chin through the mask. “I’m a huge Baylor Bears fan. The news reporters are saying you’re the best linebacker in college football.”
His shoulders curled in. How much was the news covering his disappearance? Would they be camped out on the farm, shoving cameras in Mom and Dad’s faces, and magnifying their grief?
“Get dressed.” Mr. E pointed at the clothes.
The taunt of freedom thrilled in his chest as she removed the padlock on his wrists and unbuckled the cuffs. He massaged the skin that had been rubbed raw by metal for a week. Were they letting him go? “What is this?”
“Too many people are searching for you.” Mr. E angled his mask toward Liv. “She picked the wrong boy and has made no progress in your training. You’re a liability.” He placed a hand on Josh’s shoulder and squeezed. “Besides, the Bears are getting crushed. They need you.”
What? No. This was crazy.
Mr. E laughed. “I was kidding about the last part. Seriously though, you’re a risk I can’t afford.” The hand on his shoulder shifted to his throat, gripping his jaw to tilt back his head. “I’ll drop you in the middle of nowhere. By the time you find your way to a phone, we’ll be gone from this house.”
Letting him go home was a risk. Even if they fled, he could identify Liv and Van. There were no suspicious bulges on the men, but Liv had proven how easily a weapon could be concealed. He imagined a gun trained on his head as they pushed him from their car. Boom! Body dumped, never to be traced backed to their operation. His chest hitched. “You’ll kill me before you’ll let me go.”
The grip on his throat released. “Been doing this a long time, boy. Never killed no one. And this is the first time I’ve offered freedom.”
He could taste the promise of it, felt it awakening every cell in his body. Liv pressed his clothes to his chest. He stared into her eyes, searched for the truth, and found an expression as lifeless as Mr. E’s mask. Even Van was gazing at his feet. “What about Liv and Kate?”
“Not your concern.” Mr. E waved a dismissive hand. “Take the offer, boy.”
It would be so much easier to help the girls if he were free. Even if the operation vanished, detectives could track it.
Why was he even debating this? Would he seriously choose the woman who’d been beating him over his parents’ happiness?
But he couldn’t protect Liv if he left. She was as much a victim as he was. His head swam. He couldn’t protect her in chains, either.
He dressed, and with each piece of clothing covering his skin, he felt more hopeful, more anxious. He watched her expression as he tied his boots, wishing she’d look at him and give him some sign she understood. He wasn’t abandoning her. He was going to get help. He was going to save her, dammit.
Clothed and trembling, he waited at her side while she punched in the code. Was this really happening? He was wearing his clothes. They were letting him go home. Mom and Dad’s joyous faces filled his vision and spread through his chest. He was going home.