Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 632(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Did you meet my sister?” I blurted before he had a chance to leave. Ignoring Gulliver’s enraged expression, I looked only at Lorcan. He briefly narrowed his eyes and he turned to Gulliver with a sharp smile that wasn’t friendly at all. “It seems the Killeens are back to cause trouble in New York, hmm?”
Gulliver laughed nervously, his hand clutching the handle of the wooden door. “Not at all, not at all, Lorcan. My niece is here to receive moral guidance and refresh family bonds, nothing else.”
“Of course,” Lorcan drawled, and with a soul-searching look in my direction, he walked away. I had to fight the urge to lower my head.
The moment Gulliver and I were alone, he grabbed my arm. “Have you lost your mind?”
“I only asked about Imogen. That isn’t a crime, right?”
Gulliver shook his head, his face growing increasingly red. “Not a crime, but foolish. Now Lorcan knows you are looking for your sister.”
“I didn’t say I was looking for her. If he knows I’m looking for her, that means he knows she’s missing.”
Gulliver’s lips thinned. “Don’t get on Lorcan’s bad side, Aislinn, trust me.”
“I only want to find Imogen. That’s all,” I said with a shrug. “Maybe I should go to Sodom today if Lorcan’s there.”
“Sodom isn’t a place where you just walk around. Even if your sister went there, you shouldn’t follow her bad example. Nothing good ever comes from setting foot in Sodom. It’s an ungodly place, Aislinn. Only lost souls roam there.”
“I suppose you know most of them. It’s a business hub for the Irish as well, right?”
Gulliver looked around to make sure we were alone in church. “The Irish, and other organizations as well.”
“Could Imogen have gone there to find an agent?”
Gulliver snorted. “People go there to find drugs, money, weapons.”
“Maybe Imogen went there to borrow money for her headshots. Modeling photographers are expensive, after all.”
Gulliver didn’t say anything—that could only mean I was on the right track.
“Don’t go to Sodom, Aislinn. Even my prayers won’t protect you there.”
“Thanks, Uncle, but I can take care of myself.”
I took a bus to Sodom that afternoon. It was the last stop. The closer we got to the end of the route, the emptier the bus got, which was very fitting considering Sodom was the end of all hope. The second to last stop, only myself and two other girls dressed in glittery mini-dresses with perfect but heavy make-up remained. They talked in hushed voices and occasionally threw me curious looks.
“Last stop, Sodom,” the bus driver barked as he parked at a gray concrete bus stop covered in graffiti. He rolled down his window and lit up a cigarette.
The view outside the grime-covered bus windows wasn’t very inviting with the overflowing dumpsters and cracked pavement littered with more trash and dog poo. Worse than the graffiti-covered houses and cardboard-covered storefronts were the people creeping along the sidewalk. The term lost souls was more than appropriate. With their haunted eyes and worry-lined faces, they seemed to have assimilated too willingly to Sodom.
“Get off or buy a return ticket,” the bus driver shouted when I still hunched in my seat after the two girls had hopped off. I got up, grabbed my purse, and left the bus. I had every intention of getting a return ticket later—Sodom wasn’t going to be the end for me—but first I had a mission. Outside a cool breeze tugged at my hair and dress. Considering that Sodom seemed the best way to hell I was surprised that it wasn’t warmer. I immediately regretted keeping on my white summer dress, and not just because of the temperature drop. People stared at me as if I was an alien.
Squaring my shoulders, I jogged after the two girls who just turned the street corner. I had a feeling they were heading where I needed to go. Breathing heavily, I caught up to them. They paused, giving me puzzled looks. Clutching my purse to my heaving chest, they must have thought I was a madwoman.
“I’m looking for the Doom Loop,” I gasped.
They exchanged a look then scanned me from head to toe.
“You sure?” the girl with black hair asked, cocking a mocking eyebrow.
I didn’t even blame her. I had no business going to a mob hub in a white church dress with caramel fake suede ballerina flats no less.
“Maybe it’s a virgin act. Probably brings lots of money in with the right crowd,” her friend said
I blinked, losing track of their conversation. “Can I tag along?”
“Sure,” the black-haired girl said.
We soon arrived in a warehouse district with buildings so decrepit I was surprised they hadn’t crumbled to the ground yet. The men walking these streets gave me the creeps with their haughty, leering eyes, and many of the women looked more hopeless than I’d felt in my darkest moments.