Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
They didn’t care if I stopped to stare. They didn’t shout if I picked up a chisel or screwdriver. To them, I wasn’t important—their job was—and I was free to wander, touch, and watch.
The freedom in that was liberating. To brush shoulders with a man as he carried blueprints with a pencil between his teeth and not cringe at being touched. To return a distracted smile from a man hanging in a harness to nail a panel into place and not fear making eye contact.
I was part of them while still singular, and eventually, the novelty became the norm and I returned to my pickpocketing task. The only problem was, I had no elastic to hold things secret or bras to cradle things that didn’t belong.
I had my loose dress, my hair, and my hands. Not exactly great stealing attire.
Not for the first time, I glanced at the closed door where Elder and Selix had disappeared. Windows on either side were barricaded by blinds, drawn to keep the meeting hidden.
I was tempted to sit on one of the large canvas piles and just watch the controlled mayhem around me rather than try to steal. But whenever I drifted toward the idea of refusing Elder’s request, the guilt that followed made me continue my search.
He’d tried to give me a yacht.
That yacht.
I shook my head in awe at the behemoth in front of me.
Why?
Didn’t he know how uncomfortable that made me? Not because of the extra debt I would incur, but the fact I’d never owned something so expensive before? It almost felt as if he thought he could buy back my self-confidence and somehow delete the past two years.
As if a million-dollar gift would fix me.
It won’t.
He was fixing me just by giving me a life. Taking me to work with him. Letting me travel with him. Those gifts were priceless and so much better treasured than a boat I didn’t know how to steer, had no crew to manage, and no income to afford the fuel and upkeep.
It was a stupid idea.
Stupid or not, he tried to be generous and kind and asked you to do something in return.
I’d wasted enough time.
My footsteps fell with deeper purpose as I skirted the main hub of workmen and inspected tables with scrapers and drills and hammers. There were many things I could take, but nothing was small enough to scurry away.
And besides…if I steal a tool, isn’t that stealing from Elder?
He was the boss here. He would’ve financed the equipment and supplies. It didn’t make sense to steal something he already owned.
Was it a trick? Had he already come to that conclusion and wanted to see what I would do?
You’re over-thinking this.
I agreed with that logic but only because I didn’t want to steal. I didn’t like the thought of taking something without permission, to covet what wasn’t mine because that was exactly what happened to me.
So where does that leave you?
God, if I knew.
Doomed if I did and doomed if I didn’t. Either way, I owed him, and I had to do what he said.
I spun in place, trying to spot something quickly to get it over with.
The large clock hanging above the office showed I’d dallied for ninety minutes and still didn’t have a trinket to give Elder.
Doesn’t matter. He said I had two hours—
The door where Elder had vanished into suddenly swung open, revealing a long table and people gathering up papers before standing. Elder stomped forward, stepping into the warehouse, surveying his empire.
The meeting had finished early.
I’d run out of time.
His intelligent gaze tracked over his staff, searching, searching…
He found me.
I froze as he pinned me in place with just a stare, his chin aloof and kingly.
I sucked in a breath, but it lodged in my throat.
He didn’t look any different–still dressed in a dark grey t-shirt and expensive faded denim jeans from before. It didn’t matter he wasn’t wearing a suit and tie. It didn’t matter he was just a man. He had a certain sorcery about him that put him above the rest. No one else could come across so brutish but fair, so merciless but forgiving. He was strict with me but stricter with himself. And it wasn’t his wardrobe that conjured those traits. It was him. His entire mentality and carriage.
He smiled with smugness and a tinge of relief as if he’d suspected I’d stay but was still surprised to see me.
Had this been yet another test? Leaving me on my own? Waiting to see if I fled or remained? It hadn’t even occurred to me to walk out the warehouse and vanish.
Perhaps it should have.
Maybe I should’ve focused more on finding a telephone and calling the police than I had on finding something to steal?
What’s become of my priorities?
But then again, what would I tell the police?