Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
I don’t move. Benedict stares at me, head tilted, like a wolf studying his dinner. I want to scream or run but I’m pinned to the floor and can’t make my muscles move. Now I understand the meaning of scared stiff. I’m frozen, a block of solid ice.
He steps forward, closer, six feet away at most. More glass crunches underneath.
“I put it from my mind again. I have other, more important matters to worry about. I can’t spend my life obsessing about Gavino Bruno’s long list of conquests, even when one of those he’s taken happens to be an employee of my boss. But then I saw you at the fundraiser three nights ago, and I have to wonder. Why is this girl orbiting Mr. Strafford?”
“I’m not,” I say, finally managing to find my voice. I step back, away from him, and nearly trip over a fallen stack of old DVDs I can’t even play anymore. Who the hell has DVDs? My mind’s reeling, unable to focus right now. I blink to try to keep myself in the moment.
Benedict remains still.
“I wonder though. I did some digging into you after that night. I’ve been digging for three days, and I’ve come up with almost nothing. It’s like you didn’t exist before two years ago, like you appeared from nowhere. I understand you changed your name, but I don’t know what your original name was. All the records are gone, scrubbed away. And that’s not normal.”
I clench my jaw. I worked hard to make that happen and spent a shitload of money—all my freaking savings, to be exact—and now I see the obvious flaw in my plan.
Erasing your history is evidence that there’s a history worth destroying.
“I’m nobody,” I say quietly, taking another step back, and Benedict holds up a hand.
“Don’t move any further, Jeanie.”
I go very still. “I didn’t mean to get involved with Gavino. He’s just charming, and he’s rich, and I was just—” I’m blabbing now, unable to stop myself. “I was taken in by him. He dragged me to Mr. Strafford’s office because I was delivering mail to his secretary’s desk and that was the closest private room.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“I know, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have, you’re right. Gavino’s just very persuasive. And the fundraiser was a coincidence. I was mortified that you were there.”
“Your boyfriend Gavino as well.”
“Right, I know. It’s nothing, okay? Just a string of bad luck.”
“Maybe,” he says softly.
I don’t wait for him to find out if I’m lying or not. I spin around and sprint for the door, reaching it only seconds before he’s on me. I shout and yank it open, but Benedict grabs my wrist and slams a fist into my face. Lights burst into my eyes and my head’s spinning as I stagger back into the room. Benedict growls softly, hitting me again, and I hold up my arms to try to block the blows but he’s too strong.
He throws me onto the floor and kicks me once in the guts. I groan and retch, almost puking from the pain. I curl up, trying to protect myself as Benedict stands over me, breathing hard.
“You shouldn’t have run,” he says through clenched teeth. “I almost believed you. And I hate when they run.” He pulls a folded knife from his pocket, flicks it open, and holds up the sharp-edged blade so that it catches the light. “But now we’ll play a game, and you’ll tell me the truth.”
I try to scream, try to cry, but he kneels down on my legs and presses the edge to my cheek. He cuts me slowly, and I moan in pain and thrash, but he’s too strong. He brings the piece up again, moving it down closer to my neck—
When a shape appears behind him, and something heavy slams into Benedict’s head.
The bastard doesn’t make a sound as he slumps sideways and hits the floor with a boneless thud.
I lay there, breathing hard, trying to clear my vision when the other person kneels beside me. I stare up into Gavino’s face, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. I can’t tell if Benedict broke ribs or internally damaged something vital.
“Come on, before he comes to.” Gavino helps me to my feet. “Shit, your face.” He rips a shred of his shirt off and gives it to me. I hold it against the bloody wound.
“I’m okay, really,” I say, but I lean against him as we hurry to the door. Relief courses through me and I look back once to make sure Benedict isn’t following. “Did you kill him?”
“No,” he says and hesitates in the hall. “Maybe I should. I was thinking about saving you first—”
“Don’t,” I say, tugging at him. “That’ll only make it worse. Come on, let’s get out of here.”