Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
This is too bizarre. “She’s pretty busy with her current roster. She’s doing great, too, with A’s on her first two exams.”
“Sure, sure.” He couldn’t sound more bored if he tried. “But that’s not what’s going to make her husband happy one day, is it? Sitting down at the dinner table in front of a plate of burnt food. I doubt he’ll think to himself, well, at least my wife got straight A’s in college.”
It’s not until I look down that I realize my free hand is clenched in a fist. “I’ll do what I can.”
“Excellent. I knew I could count on you. Everything looks fine as far as her bank statements go, so I see you haven’t been letting me down in that aspect, either. I knew I could trust you with this. You have no idea how much it means to know she’s safe.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Someone speaks up in the background, and he mutters in response. “I’ll have to let you go now, Zeke. I’ll check in soon.” He doesn’t wait for me to respond before ending the call.
I would ask myself what that was all about, but I already know. Sending her to school is just a temporary solution to his problem—I realize that now. He had to do something with her. He couldn’t let her sit around the house all day, bored and ready to get into trouble. And he definitely can’t have her around him while he conducts business or using one of his playthings. Aside from her safety, his top priority is making sure she has no idea where his money comes from, what he does to earn it. She has to be completely unaware.
So he sent her away. Not to just any school, but one whose students are from the same economic bracket she now lives in. He might as well have put her in a safe deposit box for the time being until he can sell her off in marriage. That’s the endgame. He’s going to use her to strengthen his own position, the way he’s used her to make himself seem more sympathetic and relatable. Sure, he’s ordered the murders of countless men and sold I don’t know how many girls no older than his daughter, but now that he’s got a kid, he’s the big family man.
It never disgusted me the way it does now, though. I’ve always known how he operates, and I’m the one who’s pulled the trigger more times than I can count. I know he uses her, and I always have.
But I also know she wants more than that from life. We don’t have to sit down and talk about it for me to know. She’s taking this school thing seriously, and it would crush her for him to pull her out of school to marry her off to a stranger.
A stranger who would touch her and claim her body for himself. How the hell am I supposed to let that happen?
Yeah, she’s definitely up to something. Dinner was good, even if I couldn’t help but remember the boss’s idea about her learning how to be a good wife every time I took a bite. That’s another thing she’d be expected to do, cook the meals her husband likes, and make sure his life runs smoothly. Everything to make him happy.
She then cleaned up without complaining. That would be suspicious on its own if it wasn’t for what she did next: changing into pajamas and setting up shop on the living room sofa. She painted her toenails and did one of those face mask things while some mindless show played on Netflix. I didn’t pay attention—I was too busy wondering what she would do next.
Now it’s quarter to ten. I’m nowhere near sleepy, but I make the pretense of being ready to turn in. “Don’t forget, the alarm’s set,” I warn her on my way to my room. She rolls her eyes but says nothing.
How long is it going to take her to try to get out? Even with the bedroom door closed, I hear her moving around across the hall. Mia, why do you have to make this so hard for yourself? Why do you have to make me do things that will only make you unhappy? And why the hell do I even care? Maybe I feel sorry for her, but big deal. Nobody ever felt sorry for me, and I still turned out fine.
At just around ten o’clock, my phone pings with an alert from the alarm system. Front Door Open.
Son of a bitch. She must have been watching when I put the code in.
At first, as I jump off the bed, it occurs to me that I should let her think she got away with it. Maybe wait until she makes it downstairs or until she’s crossing campus. Or maybe I’ll track her like I did before, embarrass her again. That might be the only way she’ll learn that she needs to behave herself.