Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Gideon said he’d let me out when I calmed down, but what does that mean? Will I have free rein to roam the estate? Is that even safe?
He says I’m here for my own protection, but how am I supposed to believe him?
He’s the villain.
Not my savior.
My brother worked for this man, and I know too many sordid tales to give the guy any passes.
My brother is dead, and he’s the only one with any answers.
Which means I can’t believe a word Gideon says. I can’t trust him or anyone else involved in this world.
It hasn’t even been that long, but it feels like the walls are already closing in around me.
I need an outlet. Something to keep my mind from wandering to who’s after me or how long I’ll be locked in this room. I can’t stay here indefinitely.
I’d rather be free in the real world and playing my cello than locked in this fortress.
My cello.
In the confusion of leaving (i.e., me kicking and screaming), I didn’t pack my belongings. I didn’t bring anything.
How am I going to practice? How will I get into Juilliard if I’m stuck here hiding?
Shit.
“What am I going to do?” I don’t mean for the words to be spoken out loud. These walls probably have ears…and eyes.
That thought gives me chills. Could someone be watching me now? My eyes scan the area, but I see nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing that screams camera.
My gaze skates the room and lands on the window.
I stand from the bed and head over to it. Reaching my hand out, I try to open it. But it won’t budge. It’s stuck, but is that purposeful or coincidental?
The latter is doubtful. It’s probably nailed shut to keep me—or whoever was kept here before—prisoner. It’s one more layer of security for the drug lord.
Fuck. This.
I’m pacing the room, fixating on all the ways I’m well and truly up shit’s creek. This place is a fortress designed to entrap.
I crane my neck to see if I can locate anything else out of the ordinary.
Not that I know what I’m looking for.
I highly doubt Gideon would put an obvious camera in my room.
If anything, it would be hidden and discreet.
My skin crawls. I can feel eyes on me even now.
He’s definitely watching me.
Corner by corner, I search the room. The window is where I start. I check each light. I search through every nook and cranny in the armoire that sits across the room. Lifting my hand, I run my fingers along the seams of the large ornate piece of furniture. There’s nothing there.
Am I making it up?
Are the goose bumps caused by my overactive imagination? Is this feeling of being watched all in my head?
My head shakes.
No.
I have always trusted my instincts in life because they’ve never led me astray. And my instincts tell me a camera is in this room…somewhere.
There has to be. I just need to figure out where it is. I’ll search this whole damn room, top to bottom, until I find it.
Next to the piece of furniture is a night-light plugged in. At first glance, it looks ordinary, except for the blinking red light at the bottom.
That’s…weird. Right?
I don’t remember a blinking light on any night-light I ever had during childhood.
That’s got to be the camera.
I move closer, my feet slapping against the hardwood floors. When I’m standing in front of it, I kneel. Staring directly into it.
It’s a backup battery.
God, I’m such an idiot.
On a huff, I lie down and look up at the ceiling, wondering if I’m losing my mind with every second I’m stuck in here.
That’s when I see a little blue light gleaming from above.
My gaze narrows in on the smoke detector.
I scour my brain and try to remember what color a smoke detector is supposed to be. I don’t have one in my apartment, but we did back when I was a kid and my parents were alive.
It was located in the hallway of my old house. When my parents would argue, they’d do it from their room. I’d sit just outside their closed door to listen in. I never understood the words they slung at each other, and I’d find myself focusing in on the detector out of boredom.
Green.
The smoke detector flashed a green light.
Not blue.
Bingo.
That’s the camera.
It’s by the door, far enough from my bed that he wouldn’t get a close-up but would be able to get a clear shot of the entire room.
My heart hammers in my chest. A hummingbird trying to take flight behind the golden bars of a cage.
I was naked inside this room earlier. Who saw me? Who watched while I stripped off my clothes before heading to the bathroom? Was it Gideon? Or maybe one of his goons? Worse yet, some faceless man who got pleasure out of watching me. Looking at my body.