Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 303(@200wpm)___ 243(@250wpm)___ 202(@300wpm)
“I prefer you naked,” I say.
He looks at me over his shoulder, his steel-like ass still in view.
What a fabulous, smooth, toned ass he has. I’m jealous.
“Funny, I prefer you naked as well.” He returns to the bed and sits down at the end. “Do you want to talk? I suck at it, but if it helps you…” he trails off and simply stares at me.
“Where is he?” I ask, wanting to know where my asshole husband is currently being held.
“In the basement. Still alive. For now.”
“Do you plan to kill him?”
He clenches his jaw, then answers with one word, “Yes.”
“But those you kill can’t be found, right?”
“Correct.”
“I’d need him found so I could remarry if I want.” My words seem to shock him if his wide eyes are anything to go by.
“You want to marry again?” he asks.
“I don’t know. But I want that option. And I don’t want him to take anything else from me.” He nods solemnly. “Don’t worry, Kyson, I won’t ask you to marry me.” His eyes find mine, and they narrow.
“Would you want to marry me?” he asks seriously.
“I need to pee,” I tell him, changing the subject. I know he doesn’t want marriage, and I don’t even know if I do it again either. But Tony has had so much power over me that it’s time I took it back, and this is something I can have.
Kyson stands and moves to my side, then he offers me his hand for support and places his other hand under my arm to assist me up so there is less pressure on my stomach. As I stand, my back curves to try to protect my stomach. All my muscles are aching, and they really don’t want to move even one inch. I can tell Kyson is about to tell me to sit back down from the worried look he gets for me.
“I’m fine. I got this,” I assure him.
He just looks at me.
I suck in a breath and hope that it will somehow dull the pain.
It doesn’t.
Kyson takes it slow with me, each step more careful than the last.
When we finally reach the bathroom, I can see he already has the lid of the toilet lifted. He turns me around, and before I go to sit, he lifts my shirt and tears my underwear off me.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I say with a smile, but as soon I move to sit, cuss words spill from my mouth. It hurts, but so does my bladder, which is about to burst if I don’t relieve myself right now. Ignoring my outburst, he turns to the toilet paper, pulls some off, and hands it to me.
“Thank you.”
Kyson nods and stands back while I sit there, peeing for what feels like forever.
“Shower, or can it wait?” he asks.
I raise my eyes and shake my head. “It can wait. I’ll try it later.”
He assists me back to the bed, and as soon as I’m lying down again, he fixes the pillows before he grabs the ice pack and walks out of the room.
My phone is sitting on the table beside the bed. I completely forgot about it with everything that happened. I unlock it and note that I have a contact—Kyson. He must have added it.
I’m not sure why or what I’m even thinking—maybe it’s the drugs—but I download the Facebook app and sign up. Maybe it’s because I know that asshole Tony can’t hurt me again, and that’s a really nice relief to have.
I’m asked to upload a profile picture, but I have no pictures on this phone, and I really don’t want to take a photograph of myself right now. I skip that part and add my bio, which is very basic and bland. I put my location as nowhere before I start a search.
After typing in my mother’s name, her face pops up immediately. I click on it, not adding her as a friend but checking her public profile. Most things are private, apart from the pictures of me asking me to come home. I gasp, and my hand covers my mouth as tears begin falling down my cheeks. She’s begging me to contact them, to come home, and I had no idea.
I keep on scrolling and see that she posts once a week and has for many years. Quickly, I go back and search my father’s name and find the exact same thing on his profile, asking me to come home. I didn’t think they would ever want to see me again, but maybe that was the poison that Tony put into my head. I did tell him the safe combination and let him break in to steal what he wanted, and I’m to blame for that. It’s not something I am proud of.
“Fuck, why are you crying?” Kyson hurries over and places the ice pack on my stomach. He glances at my phone but doesn’t take it. “That’s your father, right?” he asks.