Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
His tiny body is lifeless, his eyes are blank, the spark that was once there gone forever. His mouth is hanging open, blood dripping from the corner of his slack lips. Lips that smiled at me hours ago.
I should’ve protected him better. I should’ve done more. This is all my fault…
“Take a good look,” a cruel voice taunts. “You are next.”
I wake up with a jolt. Sweat pearls on my forehead and my heart pounds against my chest heavily. I fist the thin bed sheets beneath me and look around, disoriented. I’m not in the cabin or the hotel, not in New Haven, either. Where the fuck am I? It only takes me a few moments to realize I’m in Xander Rossi’s holding cell. Fuck my life.
Of course, that shithead got us locked up from one cell to the next. Life would be so much easier if Ren would let me take over completely. All of his pesky feelings and need to be a good guy, getting in the way of everything I’ve worked for.
I get up and walk to the small attached bathroom without a door. I take a quick piss and wash my hands before splashing some ice-cold water in my face. At least I’ve got plumbing in my cell. There also is a small shelf with a towel and a few changes of clothes. I think I’m getting five-star treatment in this prison.
When I’m fully awake, I walk around the small space, trying to find a way out. It doesn’t take me long to realize this cell is state-of-the-art and there is no way out unless I have the key.
Flopping back down on the bed, I lie flat and think about what I’m going to do to get out of here. First, I need to gather some more information. How long have I been here? Why is he keeping me alive? And what is Xander’s end goal?
When I hear soft footfalls approaching, I know who it is before I see her. I sit up and look out of my cell through the iron bars. A moment later, she comes into view.
Scarlet is wearing a light blue long sleeve form-fitting dress that goes to right above her knees; her bare legs are pale and soft-looking, and I wonder if they feel as silky as they seem. Her long blonde hair is cascading down her shoulders, so shiny they look like spun gold. In her hands she holds a tray with an array of breakfast foods and two glasses of orange juice.
“Hi,” she greets me in her sing-song voice. “Ready for breakfast?”
My stomach growls in response, and I realize she thinks I’m Ren. I force a smile on my lips. “Of course, I’d love breakfast with you, Angel.”
“Great, you came to your senses.” She smiles back at me sweetly before placing the tray on one of the chairs outside the cell. She doesn’t elaborate on her statement and since I don’t know what she’s talking about, I simply let it go for now.
She pulls her chair all the way up to the iron bars so I can reach through and grab something while pulling yet another chair up to sit on.
I move my cot closer as well, so we have the illusion of sitting at a table across from each other. Reaching through the iron bars, I grab one of the four croissants and pull it through to my side. I take a bite of the buttery pastry and chew it slowly while watching Scarlet take a sip of orange juice.
“I’m so glad therapy is going well. Dr. Stone says you are responding well. She’ll be here in about an hour and a half, so we have time.”
Alarm bells go off in my head. They brought in a shrink. Great. Ren is trying to get rid of me, of course. I shouldn’t be surprised by that or how easily Scarlet is fooled. I can fool the therapist the same and maybe I can get rid of Ren in the process. That would be a fucking plot twist.
“I’ll do what I can to fix this,” I say with a smile.
“I know.” Scarlet’s face lights up with happiness and contentment. I hate how beautiful she is when she smiles, but I know she is even prettier when she cries. I wonder if I can make her cry today. Weep for her Ren to come back, or for her daddy to protect her.
“How’s your croissant?” I ask as she takes a bite.
“It’s delicious,” she answers while her cheeks are full of pastry. “Want some jam for yours?” She moves the bowl of strawberry jam closer to me, and my eyes fall onto the small knife right next to it. She must have forgotten that I’m not allowed sharp objects. I could easily grab it and stab Scarlet in the neck. Her bleeding out in front of me, gurgling blood while her sad little eyes look at me in shock.