Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Shit, this is a fake wall. With renewed purpose, I start to feel around in desperation. Maybe he has a weapon up here and I can use it to make them call for help. I feel around the sides and it also makes a weird noise. I am perspiring as I stretch to reach up. I push up on the ceiling and somehow it lifts up. Oh shit. I slide it to the side a little and put my hand up and feel around in the timber panelling.
I glance at the door. If he gets back now he will kill me for sure. I feel a shelf and I can’t see what in the hell I’m doing, but I fumble around and find something.
Shit.
I pull down a small, black zip-lock bag and quickly hide it under my pillow. I then climb back up and feel around again and find an iPhone.
Jackpot.
I jump down and hide it under my pillow and then I put everything back in its place and move the chair back to its usual place. I close the wardrobe and then take my stash into the bathroom and close the door. I swipe the phone on and it lights up.
I smile broadly.
Yes.
I go to call and the message comes up no service.
Fuck.
I try again and still nothing. Bloody hell. I move to the zip-lock bag and I open it.
Passports. Two passports.
Hmm. I open the first one. Joel McIntyre. His strong face stares back at me from the photo. It’s his passport. I open the second one and the same face stares back at me but with the name Stace Williams.
I frown. That’s weird. Why does he have two passports in different names?
Fuck, who is this guy? I look at the dates they were made. The Stace passport is seven years old, but the Mac one is only twelve months old.
Mac is a fake name.
I think on this for a moment. Mac is an alias. You would have the real passport first. I look at the birth date, September 12th 1989.
That would make him 27, which seems about right. I would have guessed that was his age.
I pick up the phone and swipe through it. Nothing irregular. I go to his images and see a picture of an attractive girl and a little boy.
My heart drops. Oh God. He has someone at home and a son. I feel sick for this poor girl. My mind goes to scuz bucket Chelsea and what she did to him last night.
I hate her. …I hate him even more.
Rattled that this photo annoyed me, I keep swiping though the images. Images of a piece of paper. Why is he taking images of a piece of paper?
I click on it to enlarge and I frown. It’s a report of some kind.
1267 CCPick up 10thCoffee
* * *
1208HPick up after deliveryTea
* * *
1190IPick up 14thStatue
* * *
1211H Pick up 11thNA
* * *
1130CCnon disclosedBook
* * *
1140 DMDPick up after deliveryStatue
* * *
1289WPPADFlooring
I frown as I read through the list.…what does that mean and why has he taken a photo of it?
I have absolutely no idea what I am looking at or for here.
I keep swiping and see another photo of the girl and the boy, but this time they are with another man. I smile before I catch myself. This is this man’s family, but who is he?
Hmm. I swipe through to the emails… nothing unordinary.
I look through his emails and images for over an hour and with a little more information on Mac—or Stace—and a million more attempts to get range, I put the things back where I found them. I will check them again tomorrow if I am still here.
* * *
At twelve o’clock sharp, a knock bangs on the door. I don’t want to go to lunch with this stupid bitch, but if I can get her trust, she might help me get off the ship. A faint, annoying little voice whispers from deep within so she can have Mac again tonight.
It bothers me that him sleeping with her annoys me.
It shouldn’t annoy me. I should be elated. I blow out a dejected breath and open the door.
Three girls stand before me. “Hello,” I murmur.
“Hi.” Chelsea fakes a smile. She is bottle blonde and busty and the other two mumble some kind of fake greeting. One has long red hair and pale skin. She’s beautiful and sweet looking. The other has jet-black hair and a really hard face. She’s had a tough life, I can tell.
I hold my hand out and they walk past me into the room.
“I don’t need to be babysat. I’m okay.” I sigh.
Chelsea rolls her eyes. “Mac told me I had to watch you.”
I stare at her…she pisses me off. “Well, Mac’s not here.”
“Hmm, pity.” She smirks to the other girls as she looks around the room.