Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
The shame…
But I thought of River and all the good-n-dirty stuff we did last night, and it all worked out. Morris took the sample, holding it like a precious, magical ring, and zipped out of there, promising to come find me after he worked out the formula.
In the meantime, I have no choice but to keep River alive with my dick.
God, can this get any weirder? The only thing keeping me calm is that Morris thinks I won’t have to “dose” River more than once a week.
I’m game for once a day, maybe twice, but he says it might make it more difficult to cure her if she’s pumped to the gills with…me.
I say goodbye to my parents and zip to the lake house, planning to get the hell out of there. I have no doubt that Kyle is going to try to come for me after I didn’t show.
I looked up a few islands we can stay at in Brazil where you mostly camp or rent out a small cabin on the beach. Cash only. Mom and Dad gave me a few thousand dollars, and I can always zip back to them if I need more. I hate relying on them like this, but it could be months until Morris figures out the formula and a way to get River a cure. In the meantime, we’ll need our privacy.
I zip to my all-blue kitchen, feeling a little more confident about room-to-room travel now that I’ve zipped straight to my parents’ living room.
“River!” I call out the moment I arrive to my kitchen.
Oh no. The frying pan I was cooking with earlier is on the floor, onions everywhere. The flame is still burning. I’ve been gone about an hour.
“River?” I call out and walk to the living room. The front door is wide open. “River!” Please don’t tell me she’s gone on a humping spree.
I quickly make sure she’s not in the bedroom, bathroom, or out on the dock. “River!”
There’s no sign of her.
Wait. What the hell is that? I can hear the fading sound of a helicopter.
Shit. I run inside and find my phone on the nightstand. There’re twelve missed calls from Kyle and fifteen texts.
The last one says: Choose. River or yourself. Call me when you make up your mind.
Kyle knew I was going to bail on him, so they came for me. Instead, they got River.
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill my brother.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kyle probably has no idea that River’s been tainted by my bodily fluids and could die if she’s not “taken care of,” so I have to think this through and get her freed quickly.
I stand there in my living room, feeling the deep rage inside growing like a hot ember, but I have to keep my cool. I have to think with my head, not my anger or my heart, which is currently screaming to rescue her at all costs.
No. No martyring. You promised her, Huff.
If I go to Kyle and give myself up, something I’m absolutely willing to do, I have no doubt I’ll end up dissected. Fine by me except that I made that promise to River. She asked one thing from me. One. And that was to stay alive and be with her.
I have to find a way to get her back.
Options, Huff. Think options. Morris is working on cracking the complete formula. If I tell Kyle, will that help me or entice him to work harder against me?
Answer: He’ll probably work harder to catch me. Possibly make me masturbate around the clock to supply his team with material if they catch me.
Nasty. That right there crosses all sorts of lines.
If I tell Kyle about River’s condition, will he feel sorry for her or use it against me?
Answer: Definitely use it against me. Also, he’ll find out about my powerful Mr. Love-juice, which leads back to lots of sperm samples.
Again, too many lines crossed there.
My only options are to bluff—tell him I’m done with River, and she means nothing to me—or to appeal to his sense of reason.
Kyle has no reason. He’s gone mad, so that leaves bluffing. I grab my phone to text him.
Me: You can keep River. Bitch is crazy. Should’ve left her at the psycho ward.
Next comes the second part of my plan. I do a quick search on my phone: Best place to spot celebrities. Rodeo Drive.
Where the hell are the paparazzi and celebrity-gawking tourists? The Beverly Hills streets are basically empty, and most of the stores are boarded up. People still think they’re all going to die. My plan is a complete bust.
For this to work, I need a raging amount of publicity. Kyle has to see me out in public, not a care in the world.
“Hey, are you Mr. Ultra Mega Love?” Some old guy holding a camera and wearing plaid shorts walks up. “Can I get a photo? No one else around.”