Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 73533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I don’t know what to say. He’s so different than I expected. So different than Damian. Compassionate.
“Can I ask you why you left?” I ask.
He points at his face. “This was worse, believe it or not. And I was in a lot of pain both physically and emotionally. When she passed away, there was no reason for me to stay.”
“Why come back then?”
“Good question.” He finishes the last of his sandwich, watching me so intently it makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something flickers in his eyes. Something dark. That unease of moments ago is back, not that it had ever left, but now it makes my belly tighten. It’s the feeling I had that first night in his room. It’s gone as soon as it comes, but when he answers me, his tone is different. “You really want to know?”
“Yes,” I say even though something tells me that no, I don’t want to know.
But it’s too late. The word is out. And his are on their way.
“To take back what my brother took from me.”
A shiver runs along my spine. I hear the malice in his words even though he says it with a smile on his face. A smile so much like Damian’s but not.
“Don’t you want to ask me what that means for you?”
I feel sick suddenly. Like the food in my belly has turned to rock. I put the rest of my sandwich down.
“No,” I say, pushing my plate away.
“Are you finished?” he asks, gesturing to my sandwich.
I nod.
He reaches over and takes it, eating it greedily as he watches me, all teeth now. And all I want to do is run out of here. Run away from him.
I put my hand in my pocket, feeling the knife there. At least I have that. If he does anything, I’ll stab him. I won’t hesitate.
“Are you all right?” he asks when he’s done eating my sandwich, that wickedness gone again like it’s a switch he flips on or off at will.
I nod. I can’t speak.
He pushes his chair back loudly, gets to his feet and rubs his belly, contented.
“Good. Don’t worry, I won’t tell my brother about our lunch.” He winks like we’re in on this thing together. “I’ll see you later, Cristina.” He says, walking to the door. He opens it to leave, but stops, and turns back to me. “One more thing. If he hurts you, you can always come to me. You have an ally in me.”
I don’t reply.
He walks out of the kitchen.
All I can think is how they all tell me they’re my allies when I know in reality they’re nothing but my enemies.
14
Cristina
After that disturbing lunch, I walk back up to my room a feeling of dread having replaced my hunger. I have nothing to do and spend the next few hours thinking, thinking, thinking. I can’t concentrate on reading and when I try to call Liam, the phone goes right to voicemail. He’s at school like a normal person. Like I should be.
I need to ask Damian for my laptop and internet access to continue my studies online. I don’t see why he’d care either way. He’s already given me access to the outside world with the phone, so if he’s not here, it’ll at least keep me busy. I wonder what he’d ask for in return. I remember our conversation this morning. About how I could thank him.
My belly quivers with the memory of last night even as my sex is still raw from it.
Movement outside the window catches my eye.
I scoot out of view as someone walks from the house toward the trees carrying something in each hand. From how he’s bent, whatever he has must be heavy.
My heart races in anticipation of seeing Damian.
Except that it’s not Damian. It only takes me a moment to realize it.
It’s Lucas.
What is he doing? What is out there?
Without giving myself time to chicken out, I take my raincoat from the closet and put on a pair of boots. I don’t have hiking shoes or even a pair of sneakers. I should ask for some. Tell him I want to go running or something.
Tucking my phone and knife into a pocket, I hurry out of my room. I’m careful to look out for others but not caring as much as I maybe should. I pass one woman vacuuming the living room. She ignores me as I hurry toward the back of the house.
There’s noise coming from the kitchen, so I avoid it. But I notice a set of French doors off the dining room, so I head in that direction. I turn the lock and hurry out, closing the door quietly behind me. I follow a path in the grass that has been worn down.
Once I’m under the cover of trees, I know I can hide if he comes back.