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)
I take another bite of the cake, let it slide over my tongue.
It actually tastes good. I couldn’t really taste the spaghetti and meatballs, which I’m sure was delicious. This is the Countess Regalia. It’s only one room, but it has a sitting area and a king-size bed. Between the two is a lot of space. I put the fork down after that. I don’t want to eat any more. I rise and pace around the room, trying to exercise my nerves away. My pace turns into a jog, and I keep it up for ten minutes at least.
But then I stop.
It’s after nine o’clock now. About fifteen minutes after.
Leif is in a room just a couple doors down.
Has the man who claims to be my father arrived yet?
I don’t know.
“You know me, don’t you, Opal?” The Dark One says.
“Yes, of course. You’re Mr. Smith. You’ve come here many times to see me.”
“But not always to see you, Opal.”
Jealousy erupts in the pit of my stomach.
“That’s true,” I say.
I learned a long time ago to always answer when Mr. Smith speaks to me. Otherwise, he brings out his knife.
Each time he makes the same threat.
I have a knife and a penis, and one of them is going inside you tonight.
He hasn’t put the knife inside me. Not yet. But each time could be the first time…
I’m clad in a sundress. It’s what he prefers. This one is blue to match my eyes, he says. Sometimes it’s orange, red, or brown to match my hair, he says.
I’m also wearing shoes. Running shoes.
The Dark One likes me to run, but he doesn’t always allow me to wear shoes. What’s different about this time? I may never know.
He leads me out to a Jeep, helps me inside. To an untrained eye on any other island, we would be a couple, perhaps heading to a masquerade based on what he’s wearing. He helps me into the backseat. A driver sits in front.
But this isn’t any run-of-the-mill island in the South Pacific. And The Dark One and I are not a couple.
I’m driven to the hunting ground. A tropical hunting ground.
The driver drops me off, never speaking to me.
And I begin walking. I’ll be running soon enough when The Dark One shows up. For now…I walk.
I walk through the dense pathways. Above me the palm trees shelter me from the harsh sun, and around me the bright tropical flowers dance.
And I think to myself what a beautiful place this could be…if it weren’t hell on earth.
28
LEIF
I open the door to the regal suite that I booked. A few doors down, Kelly is safely secured in a deluxe room.
In front of me stands a large man. As tall as I am, and nearly as muscular. He’s wearing all black, and his eyes are dark, but his hair is threaded with gray.
Is he armed?
I’ll find out soon enough.
“Mr. Smith?”
He frowns. “Depends on who’s asking.”
“I’m Leif Ramsey. We spoke on the phone, as you know.”
Smith enters, and I close the door.
“I don’t understand what this fuss is about. I simply want to give my wealth to my daughter and her mother.”
“I work for some very wealthy men myself,” I say. “They’ve never heard of you.”
“I tend to stay under the radar,” he says.
“Interesting. Can I offer you something to drink?”
Smith looks around the room. “Bourbon if you’ve got it.”
“Absolutely.” I walk to the bar and pour him a bourbon.
“You’ll join me, won’t you?” he says.
“Thank you, but no.”
“Come on. I insist.”
He heads to the bar himself and pours another bourbon. I keep my eye on him, watching for any misdirection, but I see nothing.
He hands me the bourbon.
“Thank you.” I take a sip.
Only I don’t. I didn’t see him do anything suspicious, but I don’t trust this man as far as I can throw him. He may have laced my bourbon with something—which is part of the reason I didn’t want to drink in the first place. I also want to keep my wits, so I won’t be drinking.
He takes a sip of his.
And whether he drinks it? I don’t fucking care. I already have what I need. His lip print on the glass, which contains his DNA.
I grab the glass and look at it. “I’m so sorry. This glass is cloudy. Let me get you a new one.” I throw the bourbon in the sink, put the glass in the cupboard above it, and pour another bourbon.
Smith takes a step toward me and raises his eyebrows. “You don’t believe me?”
“Believe you about what?”
“I’m not a moron. I know you want my DNA. Now you have it. You’ll find out I’m not lying. Kelly is my daughter.”
“I guess the lab will tell us that.”
“You could’ve just asked me.” He chuckles. “I’d be happy to give you my DNA. If you’ve got a Q-tip in the bathroom I can give you cheek swab.”