Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Jessie enters and presses B, making me frown. I turn to look at him. “I thought you said he’d see me?” We haven’t had many sessions, but they’ve always been in the same room on the seventh floor.
“He’s in the basement,” he says.
The door slides open, and we’re instantly hit with cold air that makes me shiver and the smell almost knocks me over. “Jesus,” I whisper, placing my hand over my mouth and nose. It smells like rotten eggs.
Jessie is unfazed as he steps off the elevator and leads me down a hallway. He stops at a set of plastic strip curtains and pulls them open for me. “Don’t want you to get dirty.” He nods to my white knee-length dress and pink blazer.
“Thank you,” I mumble, turning sideways to make sure I don’t get anything on me. They look covered in dirt, but it could be old blood, for all I know.
I can hear “Painkiller” by Three Days Grace off in the distance as we walk past a large open room. It’s got recessed rectangular holes in the concrete floor. Reminds me of graves—three side by side. If graves had five metal bars that ran from the top to bottom.
The music gets louder as we come up to another hallway. Doors line either side with metal slots in the center of them that are about hip height.
The smell is getting stronger the farther back into the basement we get, and I try to breathe through my mouth so I don’t throw up and embarrass myself.
“Here you are, Miss Hewett.” Jessie comes to a stop at what looks to be a jail cell that has bars and opens it for me.
“Thank you,” I mumble and step inside. The taste of acid intensifies when I look in the room, and I immediately regret not taking his text message seriously.
HAIDYN
“Miss Hewett, sir,” Jessie calls out over my music.
I’m in a fucking sour mood and didn’t want to put up with Charlotte today. When Jessie reminded me this morning of my meeting with her, I told him to cancel it.
Turning around, I see her standing inside of the cell. Her wide eyes are on the bloody and naked man that lies on the floor.
I take the time to look her over. She wears a white knee-length dress. It’s not like the night I first saw her. This one is more professional. Fitted, but not snug enough to show off what I saw when she was at Blackout. She has on a light pink blazer and she’s got it buttoned in the middle and her short heels match the dress. Her dark hair in the usual bun at the nape of her neck and her makeup light with a soft pink to match on her cheeks and pouty lips.
She looks so out of place. Prissy, high-class city girl slumming it in the basement filled with nothing but filth. The thought of stripping her naked and chaining her to the wall sounds pretty fucking good. I’d like to see what she’d do—just how desperate she would get when it comes to surviving.
“Watch where you step.” I yell at her over the blaring music.
She jumps at the sound of my voice and my eyes drop to her heels. Hers follow, and she takes a step back, removing her once pristine white designer heels out of the puddle of blood she was standing in.
Fuck, I hate how gorgeous she is.
Her round eyes meet mine again before they go to the guy, and she swallows nervously.
Picking up my cell from the counter, I turn off the music and ask, “What do you want, Charlotte?”
The silence now allows me to hear her heavy breathing. “We, uh…have a session.”
It’s cute to watch her stumble over her words.
“As you can see, I’m a little busy.” I push the guy on the floor onto his stomach with my bloody boot. She says nothing as her large eyes remain on him. “But since you’re already here. We’ll call this field trip day.” I smile at her.
Her eyes come back to mine, and she looks fucking terrified. The fact that my cock is hard pisses me off. I need her to run the other way so I can be done with her and this therapy bullshit.
“Field trip?” she whispers, and the guy groans.
My smile widens. “Perfect timing.”
Reaching down, I pick him up and set him in the chair in front of the wooden table. He groans, and his head bobs back and forth. I’ve been in here maybe thirty minutes beating the shit out of him. Just relieving some stress before Jessie informed me I had a visitor.
I push him forward where his head and chest lie on the table and pull his hands behind his back, securing them in handcuffs. Then I go over to my bag and stand behind him. It gives me a great view of Charlotte across the small room. She stands right inside the open door, wide eyes still on him.