Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Oh, no, no. You’re wrong. It was between you and me. But since I’ve started this, oh, I’ve fallen in love with both of you. So young. So beautiful. So special. But I only have room to play with one of you. So we’ll have a short time with him today.”
Room? So he keeps his victims somewhere.
My wrists strain in the zip tie. Feels like I’m gonna slice my skin off from the pressure.
“You fucking hurt Leif, and I’ll kill you.”
“That’s the spirit I want to see, Zane. Keep that up as long as you can. That’s what keeps you alive. It’s what makes you beautiful. When that fight dies, so do you.”
There’s no misunderstanding his twisted insinuation.
“Roth is already onto you. You think if you kill the one guy I warned her about already, she’s not gonna be looking at you again?”
He chuckles. “Oh, my precious. I told you: I’ve been listening in all this time, so I know she didn’t believe you. And that she was worried about the obsessed kid who started stalking, then dating Leif. And knowing about Leif’s mental-health challenges, I mean, it made it hard for me to decide how he should go. It’d be easy to kill a depressed man and make it look like a suicide. But the real challenge, wouldn’t that be to make it look like you killed him before disappearing?”
Just hearing him talk about killing Leif is enough to make rage flare in me.
“So I guess you can tell I made up my mind already. And don’t worry, it will be beautiful.” He sits on the edge of my bed, keying away on my phone.
“Leif! Leif!” I shout desperately, hoping my cry can reach him, if not physically, then in some wild-ass psychic way.
“I think you know nobody’s gonna hear you in here.” I continue calling out as he scrolls through my phone. “I should review some of your old messages before I send something. Want it to sound convincing.”
I finally stop screaming, knowing this is energy I need to conserve because when this fucker gives me a few moments alone, he’s a goner.
He heads to my dresser and opens the top drawer, retrieving a pair of boxers before pulling a roll of black tape from his pocket.
My mind’s racing through my options.
I have to fucking figure a way out of this.
I have to save Leif.
And tear this motherfucker apart.
31
LEIF
I haven’t needed my key to Zane’s before this plan. He’d usually met me outside even on my short trek to his place, and it’s a surprise to be using it for the first time as I enter Zane’s place.
Could you come over real quick and help me with a few things?
I thought he was only bringing a bag tonight so we wouldn’t look like we were up to something, but maybe he forgot something he needed to put in the basement.
As I close the door, I notice the place is eerily quiet before I hear a sound coming from upstairs. It’s strained, muffled.
Something’s wrong. Get out. Call the cops.
I whirl around and grab the doorknob when I hear behind me, “You walk out that door, and your boyfriend’s dead.”
I freeze in place; the strained cry from upstairs is even louder.
I spin around, looking up the stairs.
It’s him: the dark-haired man from the photo Zane showed me.
Isaac Tolle.
He has a gun in his hand, aimed at Zane, who has his arms behind his back and a gag in his mouth. The way Isaac’s gripping the back of his shirt, it’s clear he dragged him to the top of the stairs.
The text was a trick to lure me here, and now he’s got us both right where he wants us.
“Hello, Leif.” Isaac’s voice is a whisper. There’s something unsettling to how calm he seems in a situation that has my adrenaline spiking. His lips curl into a smile, something wicked in his gaze.
Zane continues crying out behind his gag, his eyes wide, as though he’s trying to plant a message in my head. I’m sure it’s something simple like, “Get the fuck out of here!” He’d want me to leave so at least one of us could turn Isaac in.
Or maybe a part of me knows that’s more reasonable than taking on an armed man.
Heartbeat racing, breaths hastening, my thoughts are running through scenarios, like shit out of a Fast and Furious movie, where I’m able to use quick thinking and strategy to disarm him and save the day. Like the night Zane dragged me into the closet, I figure I could have taken some goddamn self-defense classes to be prepared for this.
If only…
“Get your phone out,” Isaac says. “Throw it up here.”
My gaze meets Zane’s; I can tell with every fiber of my being he wants me to get the hell out of here, but knowing what will happen if I leave, I can’t risk that. I obey Isaac’s instruction, aiming for his head, but he moves aside so the phone goes flying down the upstairs hall.