Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 173(@300wpm)
“That was interesting.” Of course, I can’t resist the urge to bug her as soon as she hangs up.
Sutton’s nostrils flare. She tosses the phone onto the bed, stalks over to the pillows, and starts beating them furiously again. “Well? Are you going to help me make this pillow wall or not? I think we should turn out the lights and go to sleep. The sooner morning comes, the better. And this better not be spoken of again either.”
“Speak of what?”
“This. Sharing the same bed. Sort of. Even with the damn wall.”
“What wall? What night?”
“Oh. I get it. Very funny.” A pillow goes flying to land somewhere mid-bed, and a second soon follows. A third and a forth quickly follow that, and the wall starts to take shape.
I walk calmly over to the other side of the bed and pitch in, heaping pillows on top of each other and making a neat and tidy line of pillows from the head of the bed straight down to the foot. Since the pillows are so thick, the wall is at least three feet tall.
“Do you think it will hold?”
“Yes.” But just for good measure, Sutton adds another, right where our faces could potentially turn and see each other.
“Even throughout a ferocious attack in the middle of the night by a fearsome admin assistant who doesn’t trust herself? Do you ever sleepwalk? Sleep molest?”
“Shut. Up.”
Sutton marches over to the wall where the massive light switch, which is more like a light panel, is and kills all the lights in the room. It’s dark, but not overly dark because the Jacuzzi actually glows, and the heavy dark burgundy drapes are still open at the wall of windows.
“For freaks sakes,” Sutton mutters under her breath. When she reaches the bed again, she roughly rips back the covers and climbs in. Dress and all. For all I know, she kept her shoes on too.
There’s no way I’m getting in there with my boots or this stupid jacket on. It’s bad enough I’ll have to keep my jeans on, which are uncomfortable to sleep in. I shed the footwear and jacket but leave the jeans and t-shirt on. When I get into bed, the mattress is hard but also plush—one of those mysteries money will buy. The pillows don’t even shift when I get in. The mattress is probably one of those things designed not to flex a millimeter, even if an entire herd of cows jumped up and down on the other side. Not that a herd of cows would actually come and jump up and down on the bed.
Anyway, the pillows don’t move.
So I close my eyes.
And I feel myself relax.
Maybe this will be one of those rare nights where I actually get a few hours of sleep.
I can hear Sutton breathing beside me, and it’s oddly calming. Maybe tonight there won’t be any nightmares. I fucking hope there isn’t. Or at least, that I’ll wake silently, soaked in a cold sweat, and alone in my misery. I really hope I won’t wake Sutton up. Well, one can always hope.
This was a bad idea on every level. #InsaneNotInAGoodWay.
It’s too late now. I’ll just have to hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
CHAPTER 12
Sutton
I guess I have a good sleep, once I finally drift off. I listened to Philippe’s even breathing after he was down for the count, and it was oddly comforting. I fell asleep a few minutes after he did. All is well in dreamland with the pillow wall between us and the Jacuzzi glowing like an alien spaceship in the background, burbling away soothingly, when all of a sudden, the bed turns into a murder scene.
At least, that’s my first thought when a scream pierces the room, tearing me out of a deep sleep. I jerk upright in bed and flail my limbs in my sleepy stupor at the sudden terror I’ve been drenched in. Pillows fly all over the place. In my panic, I flail some more and get myself tangled in the sheets. I try to get the hell out of bed to find out what animal is in pain because there’s another scream. I can barely tear my sleep glued eyes open. When I move, my foot catches in the sheet, and I let out a garbled scream of my own as I slide off the edge of the bed and end up face-first on the marble floor.
Ouch. I sit up abruptly, more awake now, and rub at the elbow I just put out to try and break my fall. I rub at my cheek, too, since it took the rest of the brunt of the fall. There’s a muffled sound. A snort. A whimper. A low whine and a moan.
What the actual hell? I stand shakily and search the darkened room wildly with my blurry eyes. The TV, a huge flat screen on the opposite wall, wasn’t left on. It’s not a horror movie playing on full volume, and the Jacuzzi is still gently bubbling away.