Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68006 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“Yeah. So?”
“Then you know it has to be right away. This is murder, Mr. Ramsey, and Ms. Taylor is our only hope of finding this psychopath. We have to question her while everything’s as fresh in her mind as possible.”
He’s right, of course. I’m being overprotective. Then again, isn’t that what I’m paid for?
“She’s going to need to be at the station tomorrow morning,” Gerard says. “Ten a.m. sharp.”
My body tenses, and I make two fists. I count to ten. All the fucking way to ten.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “She will be there. And she will be with me.”
“I’ll arrange for counsel to go with you,” Reid says.
“Why would we need counsel?”
“Trust me,” Reid says. “I’ve found in these situations that it’s always best to have counsel present.”
“I’ll make sure she’s there. Now if you’ll excuse me, it’s close to three in the morning, and apparently I have an appointment tomorrow.” I scoff. “Make that today.”
They leave, and I lock the door. Time to check on Kelly.
11
KELLY
I’m no longer scared of the closet. I’m used to the loneliness and isolation. I hate my mother so much that now, to be in the closet, away from her, is a respite that I relish.
Sometimes I fall asleep, but more often than not I don’t, because on the occasion I happen to be asleep when my mother finally opens the door, I’m punished further.
“You were sleeping.” She kicks me in my shin. “You were supposed to be reflecting on your bad behavior. So you stay in there, and you reflect.”
Reflect on what? Many times I’m not sure what I’ve done because she doesn’t make it very clear. This time, though, she didn’t like the dinner I made. It was spaghetti with a sauce made from tomatoes and cheese. Those were the only ingredients I could find in the house to make a meal from. I thought it was good. Maybe I was just hungry.
I didn’t eat lunch at school today because there was nothing to make a sandwich with and I didn’t have money to buy my lunch. It’s not the first time. It happens a couple times a month. Sometimes my teacher notices and gives me something to eat, but then I have to assure her that everything’s fine at home and there’s no reason to call my mother. I simply forgot my lunch.
She didn’t notice today, anyway.
Why should she? She has thirty students to take care of. Plus, she’s not always in the cafeteria when we’re eating.
But that’s not reflecting, so I reflect. I’m a bad girl. Bad girls probably don’t deserve to eat every day.
I sit here, alone in the closet, brushing my arms against the chill. It’s wintertime, and though I’m wearing long sleeves, heat doesn’t make it into the closet.
So I shiver, and I wait, and I try to do what my mother asks—reflect upon my bad behavior and learn something from it.
Each time, I do this.
And each time…nothing changes.
Because this is what bad girls deserve.
Sometimes I say it out loud.
Help myself believe it.
“This is what bad girls deserve.”
One time I even yelled it.
“This is what bad girls deserve!”
Someone is shaking me.
“Kelly! Kelly, wake up!”
My eyes pop open.
“This is what bad girls deserve!” I yell.
“Kelly, look at me.” Strong hands cup my cheeks.
The lights are on in the bedroom, and the blue eyes… Those beautiful blue eyes are burning into mine.
Leif.
“This is what bad girls deserve,” I say, softly this time.
“My sweet baby.” He presses his lips to mine in a gentle kiss.
“This is what—”
He touches two fingers to my lips, quieting me. “I never want to hear you say that again.”
I look around the bedroom—Leif’s bedroom. That’s right. Now I remember.
I’m here, and Brindley’s dead, and The Dark One is coming after me.
Because this is what bad girls deserve.
“Don’t ever say that again,” Leif repeats.
“But—”
“I mean it, Kelly. None of this is your fault. None of it, do you hear me?”
I nod.
I nod to placate him.
I’ve heard this before. From Macy. From the therapists and counselors at the retreat center.
I was almost beginning to believe.
But now…
How can I ever believe it?
I drop my gaze from his, place my hands over his, and slide them from my cheeks.
“Kelly…”
“I won’t say it.”
“Good. Because it’s not true. You’re wonderful. And Kelly”—he tips my chin up until I meet his gaze once more—“I love you, baby.”
I cock my head, squint a little.
And I remember…
Leif said those words before, when he put me to bed.
I look at him. At this beautiful man who just said words to me that I’ve never heard before. Are we together again? Didn’t we end it?
“Why?” I ask.
He trails a finger over my upper lip and then my lower. “How can I not?”
“I can answer that easily.” I grab a pillow and pull it onto my lap. “Because I don’t deserve anything good in my life. Bad girls get what they deserve. They get locked in the closet. They get sent to islands where they’re made to do horrible things. Then they wrongly accuse people of doing something awful, only to have that person die before they can tell her how sorry they are.”