Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
We only need this one. That was one of the last things Amanda ever said. My God. I'm reminded again that she's dead. Just like that. I would never have called her my favorite person—she went out of her way to drive a wedge between Callum and me by getting inside my head. She called me filthy, ugly names. She dragged out the divorce for ages, all so she could make Callum miserable, and she was a terrible mother. So much of Tatum's toughness is a defense mechanism. She built a wall around her that got thicker with every ignored call, every missed meet-up, every skipped holiday. Regardless of those things, it doesn't mean I'm glad she's dead. No matter how many times I replay those ugly, terrifying moments, there's no convincing myself of any other outcome. She was a shadowy figure in front of me, then there was a gunshot, and her silhouette disappeared.
I have no idea who shot her or if she was working with someone. The voice that spoke wasn't familiar. The only thing I could tell was that it was a man whose name was never spoken. He shot somebody else after Amanda—I don't know who, but I heard something heavy hit the floor—before somebody else picked me up and carried me out. The pillowcase stayed firmly in place until we reached this small, filthy room, and even then, I didn't get a good look at the man who carried me in. The room was too dark, and all I could do was try and protect myself for fear they'd kill me too.
I blink slowly and stare at the rust-stained metal door across from the cot. The very thin strip of empty space between the bottom of the door and the floor is enough to reveal light on the other side. There has to be somebody out there, right? Guarding me, at least. They wouldn't leave me alone if I'm supposedly valuable.
My chest aches, my heart thundering loudly in my ears. They're going to use me to get to Callum. That much, I can put together, even while lying here on the tail end of shock.
The puzzle pieces fall into place. Whatever was supposed to happen, Tatum was never supposed to be involved. Did they bring her here, too? Maybe they figure they'll get more from him that way. I can only assume this has to do with money. Amanda probably found somebody desperate for cash and convinced them to go through with this. I already saw what she did to Lucas. There's nothing she isn't capable of.
Was. Past tense. Oh god. This has to be a nightmare. It can't be real.
However, the stink of mildew is very real. The nausea twisting my stomach. The uncontrollable shivering. I couldn't have imagined the sound of something hitting Tatum's head. It was too sickening. Is she still alive? Did they kill her to send a message, the way they killed her mother? If she's dead, how am I supposed to live without her? What will I do without my best friend?
Calm. All these what-if questions are twisting me up tighter and tighter. I force myself to take deep breaths, filling my lungs thoroughly. I can't let myself think that way. I need to get out of this—whatever it is—alive, so I can't give in to the panic. It might even be possible to do that until a shadow blocks out the light coming in under the door.
Staring at that shadow, I press my back to the cold wall. No matter how hard I listen, I can't make out more than mumbling on the other side. Who is on the other side of that door, and what do they plan to do to me? My heart seizes at the click of the lock. Please, don't let them hurt me or my baby. I sit up quickly, causing my head to swim. Ignoring the dizziness, I draw my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them, trembling while I wait for the door to open. I wonder if they're drawing it out to scare me.
If they are, it's working.
The door creaks as it opens, and at first, the light streaming in from outside the room blinds me after spending so long in the dark. I have to squint and turn my face away while a man enters. “Getting some rest? I'm sure you need it in your condition.”
I recognize the voice from earlier, but still don't know who it belongs to. The memory of what he's capable of and how easy it was for him to do it leaves me fighting against the need to run and scream. I have to be careful.
“Where is Tatum?” I whisper, blinking hard as I turn my face toward him again. My vision starts to adjust, and now I can make out his dark hair with its touch of gray, as well as his angular face.