Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I close my eyes and think back to my Blackwoods College days. I spent so much time with Adrienne on that campus, hanging around in the sun and people-watching, talking about what we want to do with our lives and all our hopes and dreams. We always avoided the subject of our families—I know Adrienne’s got a complicated relationship with her parents—and for those four perfect years, I got to pretend like I was just a normal girl with a normal best friend.
I got more time when we left school and went out to LA for a fresh start. My father hated it and was always trying to get me to come back to Greece, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back to that horrible world of alpha macho assholes. Adrienne was my constant—she encouraged me to find a job, helped get the apartment, paid half the rent, let me cry on her shoulder when she wasn’t crying on mine, and was basically the only person that really know me outside of my family. She didn’t know that they were criminals, although I think she figured it out, and it didn’t matter anyway.
We were free out there in the sunshine. For a while, anyway. Now I’m in New York, and I haven’t talked to my best friend in three months, and I can’t imagine what she’s thinking right now.
“You mentioned some friends,” Luca says as he comes out of the bathroom and gets dressed. I try not to stare, but it’s really hard. I mean, he’s gorgeous, and what’s the harm in looking? “I tracked them down and put their numbers in there for you.”
I look up sharply. “You did? Seriously?”
“Libby. Ceris. Adrienne. Those are the three names you gave me. Wasn’t very hard, actually.” He buttons up a shirt and watches me. “Are you pleased?”
“I’m very pleased.” I chew on my lip and open the phonebook. Sure enough, their names and numbers are listed, and I have to hope they’re right—I don’t remember any of them off the top of my head. Lucky for me, Luca thinks of everything.
“Good. I want my wife to be pleased.” He comes to my side of the bed. “I need you to stay inside again today. I know it’s boring, but I hope the phone helps. Just remember the rules.”
“I will.”
He nods and turns away. He’s about to leave when I call out, “Hold on.”
I hop out of bed, leaving the phone behind, and walk to him. He looks surprise when I get up on my toes and kiss him gently.
“Thanks for the phone,” I say quietly.
His hands grasp my waist. “I’ll gladly give you another if you promise you’ll keep kissing me like that.”
“No promises,” I say, smiling stupidly, and pull away. “Besides, you have work.”
“Work can be postponed.” He sighs and turns to the door. “But you’re right. Stay here and be good. I’ll check on you later.”
He leaves me alone and I scramble back into bed.
The next few hours are torture. It’s seven in the morning on the East Coast, which means it’s way too early to call Adrienne out on the West Coast. I shower, have the staff bring up coffee and breakfast, and eat while watching TV. Finally, when it’s almost somewhat reasonable, I find her name in the phone and call her number.
It rings and rings, and on the third, she answers.
“Hello?”
Adrienne’s voice. Her real voice. “Adrienne. Hey, it’s Kacia.”
“KACIA?” She screams it into the receiver and I grimace, holding it far from my ear. “Holy shit, Kacia, are you okay? Do you have any fucking idea how terrified I’ve been? I called the cops and they didn’t do anything, and I tried to call people in Greece to check up on you but I couldn’t find anyone to help and I don’t know Greek, and, oh my god, you disappeared for three months! I thought you were dead!”
I smile to myself, eyes closed. “It’s good to hear your voice again.”
“Seriously, Kacia, where have you been? Are you okay?”
“It’s a long story, but I’m okay. My dad and my brothers though—” I stop myself and I’m surprised to find a lump in my throat. I haven’t grieved for them since the funeral, and even then I didn’t cry. Why the hell am I getting emotional now?
“Oh, shit, I’m sorry,” she says softly. “I know you had a tough relationship with them. Is that why you disappeared?”
“Yes, mostly. I’ve been in Greece, but now—” I stop myself. Can I tell her where I am? “Now I’m in the States again.”
“Are you coming home?”
“Uh—No, not right now.”
“Kacia, seriously, where are you? What happened?”
I sip my coffee and lean back in my chair, looking over at the window as morning light streaks through the blinds. How can I explain this to her without talking about Luca? There’s no way, not really, so I’ll have to dance around it.