Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Whoa there,” the granny reassures gently. “We’re not going to hurt you. No one is going to hurt you. We won’t force you to stay. It’s not like we kidnap people and tie them up or anything.”
“Ha!” Two voices echo at the same time from behind the granny.
I don’t know if they genuinely think it’s funny or they think it’s funny, but not the laughter kind of funny because they were indeed kidnapped and tied up. A shiver crawls up my spine and clasps the back of my neck in a death grip. Why did I ever come in here? That was stupid of me. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
I’m going to get tied up and shoved in a basement, and then I’m going to meet some terrible end. And the worst part? I can literally smell chocolate chip cookies baking. This granny isn’t just the leader of this crazy family that I mistakenly married into and want to jump ship to in the worst way. She’s also a superhuman, one who makes cookies at the speed of light. Really, really good-smelling cookies.
Sensing my panic, the granny takes a step back, her smile never faltering. How the heck did she not get any flour, baking powder, butter, or other baking ingredients on that power suit of hers while she was literally whipping up the world’s fastest batch of cookies with that faulty mixer she was yelling at?
“You’re free to leave if you like. I just want you to consider giving us the benefit of the doubt and maybe a few minutes of your time. You might find that you fit in well, and your skill set would be a particular asset. We’re a family here, all of us. Not by blood, unless you count your husband— oh, I mean, well, yes, your husband and his brother—but a family by choice, loyalty, care, and love. We look after each other, no matter what. Stick with us, and we can offer you protection, kindness, and care. And one day, I can promise you that every person here will love you like a sister. We try and make the world a better place through what we do, strange as that might sound. If you stay for a cookie and some milk, I can one hundred percent guarantee that things will look brighter on the other side of it.”
I stare at this lady with a healthy amount of skepticism that I don’t even try and filter. “Because you’ll poison me, and everyone knows you see bright lights before you kick it?”
“No. Because what can’t cookies and milk make better?”
“I’m not really a sweet tooth person.”
There are gasps from behind the granny—a lot of gasps. I think I’ve just scandalized the whole room. The best part is when the baby lets out the shrillest, most horrified gasp of all. Dang it, I’m just about smiling now. I don’t want to smile. I want to be a hard badass who may or may not know some kind of mean self-defense skills and isn’t afraid to use them. Papercuts would be the least of their worries if they really got me going.
Why, why, why did I not bring my taser or pepper spray?
“Well.” The granny’s smile turns just the slightest bit devilish. “Stay for half an hour more, and we’ll see if you change your mind about that.”
“W—why half an hour?”
“Optimal cookie cooling time. You won’t want to eat them too hot. They also need to finish baking, so, yes, half an hour should do it. Then, we’ll sit down, and I’ll explain to you what we do while you have some cookies and milk. At the end of it, if you want no part in whatever I tell you, you can walk out the door with your papers signed.”
“Yeah, right. I’ll know everything then. You wouldn’t let someone walk away knowing everything about you.”
She shrugs. Seriously, who shrugs and sticks out her hand when someone basically accuses them of wanting to end them? I move back another step on pure instinct. Her hand is gnarled and a little shriveled with age. The skin is pulled taut in some places while wrinkled in others, and her nails are painted black.
Okay, any old lady who paints her nails black has to be awesome and not murderous, right?
I stare down at her hand. But she just leaves it sticking out past the point of discomfort and extreme awkwardness, with everyone in the room holding their breath for so long that they have to release it and gasp for air.
“Twookies!” the baby suddenly yells and laughs. She sends herself into a fit of giggles that is totally adorable.
They wouldn’t do something terrible to me with a baby present, would they? Then again, there are such things as basements and all that. Like soundproofing, taking the baby outside so she can’t hear anything…