Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Quickly, I straightened the sheets and coverlet, then arranged the pillows the way they had been yesterday when I was first brought in here. Mentally, I listed in order the many questions I had for Oz, then opened the door to make my way down the hallway. Every step I took, I repeated my questions in my head so that I was focused.
The smell of bacon and coffee met me as I descended the staircase. I’d not had coffee since…well, since the morning before he had taken me. My pace quickened; I wanted to hold a cup close to my nose and soak in the dreamy aroma, then of course take that first sip.
The blessed nectar of the gods. Oh, how I’d missed you.
Oz’s head immediately turned to me when I entered the kitchen. He was standing at the island, his hip leaning against it with his phone in his right hand and a mug in his other.
“You missed a call from a blocked number,” he told me, holding out the phone toward me.
I dropped my gaze to it, realizing it was my phone that he was holding.
“It came when I went upstairs to tell you breakfast was ready. When it rings again, answer it.”
They hadn’t found him then. If they had, Oz wouldn’t want me to answer my phone. They were still looking.
Perry, do not call this number again!
Or…maybe he needed to. If he was innocent, then he could tell them. Explain how this happened.
I closed the space between us until I could take my phone from his outstretched hand. Although it had only been a few days since I’d seen it last, holding it felt odd. The need to have it in my possession—so I could google any question I had, check the time or the weather, look on Pinterest for classroom ideas, or even play Hay Day—no longer seemed like a necessity. It was as if I’d overcome an addiction and someone was handing my vice back to me.
“Your, uh, friends, haven’t found him yet then,” I said, wanting clarification.
Oz shook his head, his chiseled jaw more defined as he clenched his teeth. He wasn’t happy about that, but I was relieved. Not that I wanted to stay here any longer, but when it meant Perry was still safe, I accepted it.
“I need you to tell me more today. Something that will help. Anything else that you can think of. Does he have other friends or business partners you haven’t mentioned? When was the last time he went on a trip? Where did he go? Was there a place in town he frequented?”
I frowned. “Why would you want to know that if he’s in Morocco?”
Oz’s eyes flashed, as if in warning. Reminding me that he was the one in charge. He asked the questions. He had the power.
I swallowed and licked my lips when he continued to glare at me, waiting and not intending to answer me.
“I told you, he has a very small circle. He never introduced me to anyone. Samson was going to be the first. I know he kept in touch with some of the guys he’d roomed with at Stanford.”
“When was the last time he saw any of them?” Oz’s question sounded more like a demand.
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure. “He didn’t share his schedule with me. He is a busy man. His company takes a lot of his time. I know that he flew to California last December to go to a holiday party one of them was having.”
“Who was having it? I need names.”
This I knew. He’d talked about them a lot while at college. The phone calls we had, I’d listen to him tell me about his life there, happy he had found a place he fit. That he had friends. But if I told Oz, would that put these guys in trouble?
“I’m not sure,” I lied.
He knew it too. The way his eyes narrowed and his lips formed a straight line told me he wasn’t fooled. I had always been a terrible liar.
“Don’t lie to me,” he warned in a deeper tone.
I took in a sharp breath, feeling the anxiety and fear well up inside of me. What did I do? Give him names of more possibly innocent men? Just to what? Keep him from punishing me? Putting me in the basement? Starving me?
My eyes shifted to the coffeepot. I wanted a cup of that. But what was I willing to do to get it? Sell my soul? Because that was what it felt like. Giving him information so I had my daily comforts. When every word I told him could lead to the capture of my brother.
The phone in my hand began to ring, and I almost dropped it. Oz moved fast, catching it and pressing Answer, then putting it to my ear. I had to speak. Say something. But could he trace Perry from this call? He continued to hold the phone, not giving it to me. Perhaps he was worried I’d hang up. I wanted to. The need to save my brother took control of all my actions.