Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
As if he knows what I’m thinking, his fingers dig into my elbow to tighten his hold. “In you go.”
He holds open the door to the other car, and with no other option, I slip inside. Andrew goes around and gets into the driver's seat, and when he pulls onto the road I decide to try and get him to talk.
“Why can’t I remember anything?”
“It can be a side effect of the drugs. It should wear off soon.” He reaches over and pats my bare knee. When I tense, he doesn’t like it.
“Don’t be scared. I’m taking you home.”
“Home? But I don’t have a home.” That thought comes to me, and I’m sure of it. I don’t have a place to go, so I can’t imagine where he’s talking about.
“You do now.”
As he drives, Andrew keeps his hand on my knee. It feels so wrong, and I know he’s not supposed to touch me. He’s going to get in trouble.
"Your mother sent me all of your things. I have your bedroom set up.” When Andrew smiles at me, it sends a chill down my spine. It’s freaking creepy. How am I the one that was in an asylum?
At the mention of my mother, a flood of memories comes back. I remember my childhood and how I was raised. It wasn't by my parents but by nannies and tutors until I was sent away to boarding schools. Every time I acted out, I was shuffled to a new one. I hate my mother. I know that much. My whole body tenses when I think about her. She has always been a shitty person, but with me it was a new level of terrible.
“It’s okay. You only have to deal with her one more time and then she’ll be out of your life for good.”
“Are you going to shoot her too?” To be honest, I’m not sure if I care.
Andrew bursts into laughter. “Of course not. It’s because of her that I get to have you.” That creepy-ass smile stays plastered to his face as he says it.
Then I remember the last time he smiled like that. Right before I stabbed him. The memory flashes through my mind along with so many more. I glance over at his lap and see he’s wearing a pair of black pants. I can’t confirm if it’s actually true or if my mind is playing tricks on me.
Andrew takes a sudden turn down a dirt path. Trees hang over the road, and it makes it all the more ominous. The rain is picking up once again, and I know that my situation is going from bad to worse.
“My mother is giving me to you?” I whisper. More pieces come together as my mind finally starts to clear. The fog is lifting, and I’m remembering everything.
“And you should be thanking me.” He nods his head adamantly. “If not for me, she might have just killed you."
I gasp at this admission. I know my mother and I don’t get along, but is what he’s saying true? It always felt like my mere existence irritated her, but I learned to let that go. It was pointless to try and live up to what she wanted because I was never enough. Even so, it still burns that she would do something like that. Why wasn't just kicking me out of her life enough? There has to be another reason.
My mother values attention from men and money more than anything else. My guess is that this has to do with money. Why else would she give me over to this fucking creep?
A small building comes into view, and I spot a fancy sports car parked beside it. When Andrew pulls up and parks next to it, the metal door to the building opens. That’s when I see my mother emerging. She appears completely out of place in her custom tailored designer dress and with her hair and makeup done flawlessly.
“Welcome home, my precious,” Andrew says, and tears burn in my eyes.
I force myself not to cry because I won’t give them that satisfaction. I also won’t go down without a fight.
I just need to find another pencil.
Chapter Fourteen
ROURK
“F uck.” I glance around at the storage unit that’s filled with nothing but old classroom furniture. There are desks stacked up on one side and what looks like teachers’ desks on the other. Maxim goes over to the corner and pokes around at something then comes back with a box in his hands.
“Looks like old records,” he says as he sifts through the contents.
“We don’t have time for this.” I want to throw something or break a chair in half, but I know it won’t do anything but momentarily relieve the pain.
This is the second storage building we’ve been to and come up empty-handed. Maybe these really are for school use and following this lead was a mistake. The first one was close to the city, so we decided to start there and work our way out. My gut is telling me that he’s taken her somewhere far away. We’ve got one more building to search and then we’re out of options.