Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
I have to go. I need out of here, now. No way am I going to let him use me this way.
And Zeke. Why did he have to do this to me?
I reach my bed, and my legs threaten to go out from under me, but I can’t let that happen. Once I’m away from here, I can cry my eyes out until my body shrivels up and blows away like a dry leaf. I don’t care. But that can’t happen now. I have to hold it together long enough to find a way out.
But how?
My mind races. I don’t have the keys to any cars, and I seriously doubt anybody would give them to me if I asked. Blair? She should be free for break by now, right? Even if she isn’t, maybe I can convince her to come and get me. There has to be a way I can sneak out. While everything is getting fixed up for the dinner party, I could slip out.
The fact is, I need to believe I can. I need to believe I have some measure of control over my life.
Rather than taking everything with me, I pack a few essentials, throwing everything I just placed in my bathroom back into a bag. And he wanted me to dress up tonight. Like he was getting me ready to go up for auction—no, not quite, because the auction is finished. I’m already sold.
Only when I grab my laptop, one additional option comes to mind.
And wouldn’t it piss Zeke off to no end if he knew how I chose to get away? When I think of it like that, it’s almost too perfect.
I sit down, fingers flying over the keys. Please tell me you’re around. Please tell me you’re available.
Dean answers right away, to my relief. Yeah, I’m just hanging out. What’s up? Are you okay?
No, I don’t think I’ve ever been less okay. I listen for any sound out in the hall, but everything’s silent. For once, Zeke has enough sense to stay the fuck away from me. I would claw his eyes out if given the chance.
What happened? Do you need help?
Yes! I do. Can you please come? I can meet you out on the road that runs alongside the compound. I give him the address and cross my fingers, praying he’ll come through. I need him to come through.
Whatever you need. I’m not far away. I can be there in five minutes.
Some of the pressure on my chest loosens, and I’m finally able to take a decent breath. Thank you so much. I owe you my life. Please, hurry. I can tell him all about it once we’re in the car. And I can thank him for opening my eyes.
Because the person who was supposed to care about me—who pretended to anyway—didn’t think he needed to. He figured it would be okay to lie to me, over and over, so many lies I don’t know if anything he ever said was the truth. How could he do that? He knew I would be married off to some stranger all this time, and he never even gave me a clue.
He fucked me. He slept next to me for weeks.
He protected me.
But he couldn’t protect me from this because he didn’t want to.
I finish packing up my things and take one last look around the room before creeping down the stairs.
At least he won’t have to worry about protecting me anymore.
29
ZEKE
She hates me. She would’ve killed me where I stood if she had the chance.
She’s said it before, but this time, she meant it. I would have known that without her saying it.
“Do you want to tell me what the hell that was all about?” the boss bellows. “You mean you let her run around and fuck random boys at that school? What the fuck did I hire you for? You knew I needed her pure. I told you so, explicitly.”
She could’ve thrown me under the bus, which is exactly where I deserve to be. She left me out of it, no matter how much she didn’t want to. I hate that the way she spared me gives me hope.
But there’s no guarantee she won’t eventually spill the truth if he pushes her hard enough.
“She’s lying,” I mutter, staring at the open door. I can just imagine her up there, screaming into a pillow, sobbing in the middle of her bedroom floor. If it wasn’t for her father, I would’ve followed her. I would have fought to make her see the truth somehow. I wasn’t plotting against her.
But dammit, I didn’t do a single thing to help either. It’s practically the same thing.
“She’s lying? And you know that how?”
Once again, I’m reminded of the similarities between father and daughter. He sounds just like she does when she’s indignant, demanding. To think, he didn’t raise her, either. Nature versus nurture. Thank you, Intro to Psychology.