Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Maybe my dad has the answers, I muse. I mean, he has to know, right? Even before the men showed up, my dad had seemed hyperaware and paranoid while he rushed around downstairs double-checking the windows to make sure they were locked. Something is going on, something that is a major threat to me, no matter if I was with my dad, with Trent, or by myself. But I do know that I need to get out of here.
Trent returns with a stack of clothes and a bowl of food, putting them on the bed near me. "I'll give you some time alone to process things," he says quietly. "I'll be back to check on you soon enough."
He leaves just as quickly as he returns, but this time, a lock engages in the door. "What the...?" My sentence trails off as I get off the bed and walk over to the door. I try to open it, but it doesn't budge. "Trent! Why did you lock me in here?! Unlock the door!"
Panic quickly sets in, and I frantically yank at the doorknob. If he thinks he can make me a prisoner in his house and against my will, he has another thing coming.
"Morgan, you should calm down—"
"Unlock this door now!" I screamed, beating the door with my fists.
"You can either sleep in the bed with me or be locked in this room. Because I can't trust you not to leave, I have to lock you in this room until I can trust you."
I scoffed. "You have some nerve to talk about trust after what you did," I mutter.
"I can't let you leave, Morgan. It's not safe."
"How do I know you're safe?"
No sound comes from the other side of the door, almost to the point that I thought he had walked. "You'll just have to see that for yourself."
"The same can be said for you, too," I counter. "If you want me to trust you, you have to extend the same courtesy to me. Treating me like a prisoner and locking me in a bedroom isn't going to help that. It only makes me think you're no different from the others with your sinister plans for me."
Nothing happens for a few moments, but then the lock disengages. I pull the door handle, and it opens with ease, Trent standing on the other side.
"Don't make me regret this, Morgan," he says, a clear warning in his tone and his gaze.
I force a small smile on my lips to give him the illusion that I'm more calm. "Where's the trust, Trent? I thought we just agreed to trust each other," I muse.
He only stares at me, but he doesn't return my smile. He only turns and walks away in the opposite direction and leaves me standing there. And there it is, that professional, just-business demeanor I'd seen when we were at my house. I move away from the door with a sigh and go back to the bed, grabbing the plate of food and eating. While I understand where he's coming from, I'm still determined to leave. He can try to make himself out to be a hero all he wants but at the end of the day, he's also still one of the bad guys. Just because he has a change of heart doesn't make him any different from the three men who attacked my father and me.
Dad. I need to know if he's alright, if he needs to go to the hospital for his injuries, or even if he's arrived at the hotel. I make a mental note to call him as soon as I get somewhere safe to check on him.
When the house falls quiet, I poke my head out the door and look both ways down the hall. Trent's bedroom door is cracked, and everything leading out to the living room is dark. I slip back into my room and grab my shoes and phone before turning off the light and tiptoeing down the hall. My heart thunders in my chest as I take soft steps down the hall, almost expecting Trent to pop out from behind a picture frame to bust me.
I make it to the living room and release a long, soft breath. My heart beats so fast that I think I just may pass out before I even reach the door. The living room is pitch black aside from the sliver of light that filters in through the stained glass at the top of the front door. I look behind me just to make sure Trent's door hasn't budged, and then I slowly move forward. I use my hands to feel around me to make sure I don't bump anything, keeping my eyes on the moonlight streaming in.
"Almost," I whisper.
"But not quite."
I scream at the deep voice behind me, a pair of strong arms wrapping around me before I can even react. "No!"