Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
The bathroom is interior so it will have no windows. The only way out of the house is through the two pieces of shit that brought me here.
The dresser has an old-fashioned perfume spray bottle on it, and I don't have to pick it up and sniff it to know that it's the scent of roses. I still have no idea where his obsession with it came from, but I've always suspected that it has something to do with his mother, which is creepy all on its own.
I shudder as a wave of goose pimples covers my body.
I know it's unlikely that the men in the living room will bother me, but I close the bedroom door anyway.
I want to be brave. I want to be able to face Nathan with my head held high, but I know I'll cower and beg like I always do. I know it'll take some time before he's here, but he'll get here eventually. There isn't a court or jail cell that can hold him.
I pull off my heavy coat, the warmth in the room making sweat bead between my shoulder blades, and hang it in the closet, cringing at the clothes hanging on the rack inside.
Nathan will be more than a little upset with the weight I've gained while in New Mexico, most of it during this last month. He always wanted me to be lithe. We have an image to keep after all.
It's very possible that the goon squad will report back to him how I look and how I act. It wouldn't surprise me that Nathan made accommodations just for this situation, and already has an exercise program and diet prepared so I'm in fighting form when he returns.
"You're not going to fucking believe this," I hear through the door.
"What's that?"
I can tell by the voice, that the man talking is the one who threatened the lives of the people in the parking garage. I can picture his scarred face as I press my cheek to the door in order to hear them better.
"Bossman got released," the other guy says, making my blood run cold.
"You're fucking kidding me," the scarred man growls, and I can't tell if it's excitement in his tone or if he's honestly shocked.
I shouldn't be shocked. Nothing ever holds Nathan for very long. What should be shocking is him remaining in custody in New Mexico for as long as he did.
"What about the case in New Mexico?" This is once again the scarred man.
"Who fucking cares. Do you think he'll let us fuck her?"
I hate the sinister chuckle I hear, and I'm unable to determine from which of the guys it came.
"Highly fucking doubt it."
"Fingers crossed," the other guy says.
I'm trembling when I step back from the door. It was incredibly stupid of me to think that I had time before Nathan got here.
I could be dead before the sun comes up, and the thinking that I might live much longer scares me more than meeting my end tonight.
Nathan would never just walk in and kill me. He's too controlled for that. This punishment will be the most drawn out he's ever managed. It could take weeks, months, or even years before he decides I've had enough, and there's a very real chance he'll never think I've served my time for the wrongs I've committed against him. He'll always find another way to hurt me, to make me wish I were never born.
I look around the room, needing to put an end to all of it before Nathan can get his hands on me.
With tears staining my cheeks, I run to the window and pull the curtain back. My fists meet the glass only to discover that it isn't regular glass covering the window but plexiglass.
My chin trembles in fear when I see the shadow of a man walking up the front steps to the right of where I'm standing. He has to have seen me, but he doesn't give me his attention. There's only ever been one man in my life who could see me without looking. My blood runs cold as I rush to put the curtains back in place.
Nathan is here. A second later I hear the front door open and congratulations being offered on his release from the two goons in the living room.
I know he picked a small house for this on purpose. He feeds on my fear, and being able to hear what's going on is all part of his fucked-up plan. He wants me to be terrified and shivering by the time he comes to me.
I rush across the room to the bathroom, but just like every house after Xan found me after cutting my wrists, there is no mirror in there.
There's no razor in the shower, and I know he'll only ever give me something I could poison myself with while I'm being supervised using it, so there's no chance of finding Nair hair remover or any excess amount of toothpaste or mouthwash. There will be no cleaning chemicals of any kind.