Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“I thought you might be hungry, so I brought you something to eat,” he says. “I know how much you like cheeseburgers from that diner near campus, so I got you one. I got you fries and a chocolate shake, too, because I know you like those.”
I shake my head. “How do you know all this?”
He gives me a smile that makes something heavy settle on my stomach. “Your whole life is on your social media pages. I know it’s because you wanted me to know these things about you. You were telling me.”
The idea that he’s been stalking my socials and gathering bits of my life, picturing him in it and imagining that I’m sending him secret messages through what I post turns the blood in my veins to ice. I look at him, aghast.
“Let me out of here,” I say.
Professor Bryson frowns but says nothing. Instead, he sets the tray down on the table and turns to me with a patient look on his face.
“Grace, that’s not going to happen, so you’re going to want to get used to being here,” he says. “The sooner you accept that, the sooner we can begin our life together, and the sooner we can be happy. I don’t want to keep you down here. I just need you to accept that you’re mine now.”
“Why are you doing this?” I ask.
He cocks his head and looks at me like I just asked the stupidest question imaginable. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m doing this because I love you and want us to be together.”
A choked sob bursts from my mouth, and I look away as a fresh torrent of tears streams down my face. Professor Bryson kneels next to me and puts a hand on my knee. The feeling of his hand on my leg sends a cold shudder through my body and churns my stomach with hot, acidic bile so thick it makes me want to throw up. I shrug his hand off my knee and try to shrink away from him. I just don’t have anywhere to go.
“Don’t touch me,” I hiss.
He sighs. “Gracie, I’m not going to force myself on you. I’m hoping that in time, you’re going to let yourself embrace that thing that’s always been between us.”
“There has never been anything between us.”
“I’ve seen the way you look at me in class,” he says. “I can feel that heat between us. I know you’re scared of it being inappropriate. I’m your teacher, after all. But we’re both adults, Gracie, and I’m hoping you’ll see that what we have works and that there is nothing to be afraid of. We belong together. I’ve known that from the first day I saw you. And I’m pretty sure you felt that too.”
“I felt nothing for you,” I spit. “I feel nothing for you. This—whatever this is—it’s all in your head, Professor Bryson. You need to let me go.”
He smiles patiently, looking at me like I’m an unruly child who just doesn’t know any better.
“It’s going to be okay, Grace,” he says. “What we have is special. It’s beautiful and—”
“It doesn’t exist anywhere but in your fucking head!” I scream. “Let me go!”
Bryson’s smile falters, then falls away completely, his face darkening and twisting with impatience and anger. He manages to dial it back, though, opting for a more neutral expression.
“I love you, and I want this to work, Gracie,” he says through gritted teeth.
“I will never love you back. Just let me go, and I swear I won’t tell anybody.”
He stands up again and sighs as a look of sadness crosses his face. Bryson reaches behind him and pulls a gun out of the waistband of his pants, letting it hang at his side. He is silent for a moment, simply looking at me pointedly, tapping the barrel of the gun against his leg.
“I really want this to work, Gracie. And I do hope that in time, you will come to love me as I love you,” he says. “I don’t want to imagine a world without you in it.”
The implication is crystal clear, and absolute terror grips me. It’s all I can do to keep from having a nervous breakdown right here and now. I have never been as scared as I am in my entire life, and I’m barely holding it together.
“You are going to love me, Gracie. If it takes a month or a year, you are going to love me. Do you understand?” he warns.
Before I can say a word, something heavy crashes upstairs, followed by the sharp tinkling of glass shattering. A second after that, heavy footsteps sound above me.
“Grace!” he roars.
Griffin’s voice echoes through the house, and my heart leaps into my throat. Bryson’s face pales, and for the first time since he took me, I see fear flash across his face. He stands there, seeming to be frozen in indecision, not knowing what to do.