Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“I’ll start searching online,” she said. “Send you anything that I find.”
“Thanks,” I hesitated with what I had to tell her next but then decided to just rip the Band-Aid off and get it over with. “Joseph came by for his check.”
She inhaled sharply. “You told him you would send it to him via mail.”
“I know,” I grumbled.
She’d been part of the group text with him.
I didn’t respond to anything without having my mom or dad in the text thread with me, just in case.
“Did he leave?”
“Yeah,” I confirmed.
“Good,” she grumbled darkly. “I hate him.”
“You and me both,” I sighed.
My phone beeped, indicating an incoming call. “Gotta go, Mom. Love you.”
Luckily, the other call wasn’t important, and I was able to hang up relatively quickly.
I sat down on my couch, then pulled my computer into my lap. “Let’s do this.”
It was later that night when I felt around on my bed and didn’t find my stuffed animal.
I knew, without a doubt, that my stuffed animal was gone because Joseph had done something with it.
That’d been what he was doing when he walked through my apartment.
But, holding out hope, I called my mom.
Maybe she’d be able to spot it.
She didn’t answer, though, and I hung up.
It was really late.
I didn’t blame her for not answering.
She charged her phone in the kitchen because she liked to say that the radio waves might fry her brain if she lay next to it all night.
And, since I loved the hell out of my mother, I didn’t bother to fight her on her choice.
It was her own prerogative if she didn’t want to sleep next to it.
Who was I to try to convince her otherwise?
The only problem was that I seriously needed to find my bear, or I wouldn’t be able to sleep.
I’d slept with the damn thing since I was born.
But, after the burglary, I was even less inclined to sleep without it. When I was alone, I panicked and was barely able to function at times. The bear seemed to be the only thing that calmed me down.
It’d driven Joseph bonkers because he said the bear was disgusting.
It was ratty, sure, but it was clean.
There was nothing disgusting about it.
I opened the balcony door for some fresh air, then pulled my phone out and hit the Siri button. Once I had her attention, I said, “Pull up the My Eyes app.”
There was a long thinking pause, and then Siri said, “App not found.”
I groaned.
What the hell was it called again?
After multiple more attempts of trying to find the stupid app, and not finding it, my frustration got the better of me, and I said, “Call Joseph.”
He answered on the first ring. “I was expecting this call.”
“Where is it?” I snapped.
“Where is what?” he asked innocently.
“My stuffed animal, you complete douchebag,” I snarled.
He laughed. “I threw it out. You’re welcome.”
“Where?” I snapped again.
He chuckled. “In the dumpster outside. Maybe ask that asshole neighbor of yours to help you.”
What asshole neighbor?
“I fucking hate you so much,” I hissed, then hung up.
For good measure, I blocked him.
Any other communication between him and me would be with my parents doing the contacting.
I would never reach out to him again.
With shaking with rage fingers, I hauled on my boots and headed to the door.
Navigating the elevator was fairly easy.
The apartment that I had was advertised as “blind-friendly.”
They really were, too. That was one of the main reasons I had moved so far away. That and getting away from Joseph.
The place was well set up, spacious, navigated easily with a cane, and had stuff that announced what floor you were on, how to get to certain places, and had emergency phones everywhere.
There was also a 24-7 attendant who hung out in the lobby that would help you with anything you needed.
It was state of the art, and Joseph had paid for everything when my parents had threatened to sue the pants off of them.
They’d given us a large lump sum to “pay us off” and “keep us quiet.”
Truthfully, his mom and dad had given me three million dollars to go away. I’d agreed but had to sign an NDA to never tell anyone what had happened.
I’d disagreed, and they’d paid me without the NDA.
I’d keep my mouth shut.
It would be easier that way.
The elevator ride took two minutes—being on the fourth floor, with a slow elevator, was fun sometimes.
When I arrived in the lobby, it was to hear the attendant talking to someone.
Ignoring them, I headed to where I knew the dumpsters were.
“Ms. Howe,” I heard the attendant call. “Is something wrong?”
I rubbed angrily at my face, only now realizing I was crying.
“Uh,” I hesitated. “Yeah, actually. I…”
“Bindi?”
I stopped.
Why did that voice sound so familiar?
“Um, yes?” I said, turning as if it would help me figure out his identity better if I was facing him.