Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
I follow a wet track of footprints from the shower cubicle to the vanity when I discover it is empty. Katie is standing in front of the vanity mirror drenched from head to toe, and not a snick of fabric covers her body.
She is staring at her marked and bruised stomach, cradling the non-existent bump in her shaky hands. She’s so emersed in her fear she doesn’t realize I’m in the room until I say, “He won’t hurt you again. I’ll make sure of that.”
I don’t know where my pledge came from or why she’s the only one who’s been deserving of it for the past eight years, but I mean it.
“Now come and eat. You’ll need your strength.”
Not giving her the chance to ask what battle I’m about to force her into, I rejoin Alek in the main part of the room. “I need you to find out where he took the other women.”
“Women? What other women?”
I glare at him like I know he isn’t as stupid as he is portraying. “His new Mary’s.”
I wonder how far out of the loop I’ve been when Alek replies, “He sent them to the trade. I thought you were told that?”
“No one has told me anything.” I take a breather to calm down before grinding out through clenched teeth, “I need a replacement brought in.” This is a dick move, but when you’re desperate, you run with anything. “If you can’t find one, bring me the redhead from the kitchen.”
“The whore you were gifted without taking her for a test run?” I give him a look. It has him backpedaling in an instant. “I’ll see what I can rustle up. Virgins are fucking pricy.” He nudges his head to the bathroom door Katie is exiting. “I’m sure you’re aware of that.” Confident she heard him, he greets her with a grin before exiting the room, taking the smashed surveillance cameras with him.
After locking her eyes with the holes the camera wires left behind, Katie mumbles, “I thought you said they weren’t monitored.”
“They weren’t, but anyone can log in and look at them.” Believe me, I have multiple times the past three months. “Now they won’t be able to.” I pull out her chair before demanding she sit. My command isn’t unusual, but my chivalry is. I don’t pull out chairs or hold open doors. I give a command, and you follow it, but I’m finding it hard this time around.
I need a line or three of coke.
I could blame my urges on the awkwardness. We’ve eaten together multiple times in the past four months, but it’s never been this awkward.
“What has your mind, маленький ягненок?” It is an insensitive question after what she’s been through, but I fucking loathe silence.
She places down half of the grilled cheese sandwich she has barely touched before locking her eyes with a section of carpet that was replaced since it was filled with the doctor’s blood and brain matter. “Am I meant to grieve?” I’m lost as to what she means until she murmurs, “She wasn’t wanted, but she was still a part of me.” She returns her eyes front and center. “I feel like I should, but it also feels stupid.” As she wets her lips, she fiddles with the hem of her nightie. “I also haven’t had anything that was solely mine for a very long time. She would have been mine… well, for at least nine months.”
Her eyes rocket to mine when I murmur, “She wouldn’t have lasted that long. Not if she was a she. And if it was a boy…” I stop talking as anger steamrolls through me.
Mistaking my silence as me not having an answer, Katie murmurs, “I’d be dead the instant he was born.”
Although she isn’t asking a question, I jerk up my chin. “So, yes, grieve, but don’t ask me what you should grieve, маленький ягненок, because I am as confused as you.”
The truthfulness of my statement slackens the pain strained across her face. It also gets her eating. She should be starving. She hasn’t eaten in days.
And neither have I.
34
KATIE
The doctor did nothing invasive. He checked my pulse, took my blood pressure, then asked if I had any issues keeping down the food Ghost and I shared. When I shook my head, he gave me the all-clear to resume normal activities before sheepishly leaving my room.
He was kind, if not a little scared.
When he left my room, I asked Ghost what happened to my last doctor.
He didn’t answer me. Instead, he merely smirked before telling me to rest.
The doctor had only just given me the all-clear, so the last thing I wanted to do was crawl into bed, but what else did I have to do? So bed has been where I’ve been the past several days.
Ghost hasn’t left my room either, but he’s been occupied with his cell and keeping the table in my room filled with an endless number of desserts and flavorsome breads. We’ve talked on and off, but the hour-long conversations we’ve had previously have been on the scarce side. I think that may be more due to exhaustion than anything. I can’t imagine an armchair being overly comfortable to sleep on for one night, much less six.