Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 531(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Oh God, was she going to wind up over the side of a cliff after all?
But no, the stony ground beneath her feet gave way to gravel and then paving. And just ahead of them, she could see light creeping out from beneath a shroud of darkness, possibly a garage door?
The dog trotted toward the left and to Iris’s relief a little door slid open as they approached, and the meter-by-half-meter square was more than big enough for her to crawl through. She stopped the dog, by tightening her hold on his ruff and when the mutt obediently came to a halt, Iris undid the collar and crouched to crawl through the opening. She remained close to the door so that the dog could walk through it as well. Once they were both safely inside, she refastened the collar around the dog’s neck. After blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the garage, she gawked at the fleet of cars standing like silent metallic sentinels in neat rows within the brightly lit space.
Gleaming, sporty cars that had to be worth millions upon millions of pounds. She gaped, awed by the staggering display of wealth and found herself wondering why no one had known about Trystan Abbott’s little bolt-hole in South Africa. Or even about his obsession with sports cars. It seemed like something that would have been revealed before in the many articles about the man. And yet, Iris hadn’t found a single reference to either.
Curious.
She shrugged it off for the moment. She had much weightier matters to consider right now. Staying out of sight for one thing. She wasn’t going to chance being kicked out into the cold again. Something told her that if he tossed her out a second time, she would not find her way back inside again. And God knew, she wouldn’t survive the night out in the elements. Well, maybe she would, but it would be unpleasant and she’d likely develop bronchial pneumonia, or something equally nasty, as a consequence.
“What next, boy? I should probably find something dry to wear… Do you think your master is asleep yet?” The dog looked up at her with a quizzical tilt of his head and a thought occurred to Iris. “What’s your name? It must be on your tag, right?”
She reached for the collar again and checked the round silver tag.
Luna.
“Oh, you’re a girl. Sorry, sweetheart. You’re so big, I naturally assumed you were a lad. Terribly gender normative of me, I know. Luna, such a pretty name for a very pretty, good girl.”
The dog’s tail lazily swept the polished concrete floor.
“How long should I stay down here before your master heads off to bed, do you think?”
The dog yawned expansively, displaying a daunting array of sharp white teeth. Iris gulped, grateful that Luna had proven to be such a darling, despite her terrifying first impression.
“And your dickhead of a master must have known I was referring to you, yet he chose to leave me out there completely petrified and expecting the absolute worse. That must have given him a nice little laugh.”
Although, she couldn’t quite imagine the bearded, hulking, formidably unsmiling man she’d encountered earlier finding anything amusing.
She wandered around the garage, inspecting the cars, and trying not to think about how very cold she was. She daren’t touch any of the vehicles for fear of setting off alarms, and she held her hands tightly clasped behind her back as she leaned over the bonnet of a metallic green Aston Martin DB12. She wouldn’t have known what it was if her brother hadn’t been salivating over a magazine spread of this exact car a few months ago.
The personalized number plate on the front was puzzling. It read MILESH5-WP. A quick glance around at the other cars confirmed that they all had the same registration plates, with only the numbers differing. They ranged from MILESH1 to MILESH8, with one car—a bright red Mini Cooper—tagged as CHARIH1-WP.
How odd.
It niggled at something in her memory banks, but the more she worried at it the more elusive it became. She shoved it aside for now, hoping it would come to her later when she was a bit more relaxed. Although, right now, she wondered if she’d ever feel relaxed again. And warm. She doubted very much that she’d ever be warm again.
Luna got up and shook herself before ambling toward the single flight of stairs leading up to an open door. It was dark beyond that door, and Iris wondered if she should follow the dog. Surely Trystan Abbott wouldn’t be lurking around in a dark room, so it should be relatively safe up there.
An involuntary shiver wracked her body and sent her teeth chattering. And warmer… it’ll hopefully be warmer up there.
The dog was halfway up the stairs before Iris decided to follow her. It was ice cold down here, probably because it was underground. If she avoided any well-lit areas, she could well find a room to hole up in tonight and figure out what to do in the morning.