Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“I’m supposed to be wherever the fuck you are!” His voice is hard and loud. “Of course, you didn’t recognize me. I made sure of it.”
He pulls the contacts out of his eyes and drops them to the floor. He peels off a little mustache and even pulls a teeth prosthetic out of his mouth, dropping that, as well.
A damp washcloth appears from his back pocket, and he wipes makeup off his face. And now, aside from the lighter hair, I can see that it is Steven.
“You’re such a fucking slut.” His eyes are wild. Crazy. “You promised you’d wait for me. I did everything right.”
He takes a breath and calms his voice.
“I figured out how to make the guards and warden like me. I got a job in the computer lab, and I finally figured out how to hack into all kinds of servers. I changed my release date. I deleted any mention of victim’s rights so your family wouldn’t have to know. I changed the way I looked. JUST LOOK AT HOW MUCH I DID FOR YOU!”
I take a tiny step back and lick my lips.
“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere.” He tsks, shaking his head like I’m a kid who’s been bad. “You mocked my flowers. MY FLOWERS! They’re beautiful. They’re your favorite.”
“They used to be. You ruined that for me.”
His face pulls into a sneer. “Fuck that. You love them. You stopped working at the coffee shop, so I didn’t get to see you anymore, and that pissed me off. Hurt my feelings. I’ve had to drive back and forth to fucking Washington. Do you have any idea how inconvenient that is? How long it takes? I don’t have a private jet that I can just fly around in at my whim.”
Oh, God. What do I do? I don’t know what to do.
“How did you find me in Bitterroot Valley?” I need to stall him, keep him talking.
“Please.” He rolls his eyes and then looks at me like I’m a child that needs placating. “It’s not like you changed your name or something. You even got a Montana driver’s license. I hack into computers, remember? I tried to chat with you on social media, but you wouldn’t reply to my messages.”
I frown, and then it dawns on me. The spam I deleted. It was from him.
“The only good thing that happened is that I got your old apartment and your old furniture.” His face splits into a sick, perverted smile. “I fucked you on every surface in that apartment.”
I’m going to throw up.
“And you loved it. You wanted more and more. You begged me to marry you.”
“No.” The word comes out strong and hard. “That didn’t happen. It’s not true, and it’ll never be true.”
“Shut the fuck up!” He storms over and backhands me, making me see stars. “You’re a motherfucking liar, you whore.”
“I’m not lying.”
He hits me again and then pushes me down into a chair. It’s one of Roger’s kitchen chairs. My cheek throbs, and I feel nauseous again, but I realize that he’s tying me to the chair.
“You’re not that stupid fucking rancher’s,” he mutters over and over again as he ties the knots. “He can’t give you what I can. He can’t love you like I do. In for a penny, in for a pound. In for a penny, in for a pound.”
He keeps repeating odd phrases, over and over. He’s mentally insane.
And he’s going to kill me. Oh, my God, he’s going to kill me, and Roger will find me here. Sweet Roger, who wouldn’t hurt anyone.
Remington and the kids need me. My whole family needs me, and this monster is going to take me away from them.
“Your dad told you,” he says, looking me right in the eyes. “He told you that he wanted you to marry me. Because he knows. He’s smart, and he’s famous, and he knows.”
“What does he know?” It comes out in a whisper.
“That I’m the only one for you.” He calmly reaches up to drag his fingers down my cheek, and then he grips my mouth, bruising my face on either side. “I’m the one who loves you. I would have treated you so fucking nice, but you just wouldn’t listen to me. No, you had me put away. But you can’t stop a love like ours, Erin. When it’s meant to be, it works out. And we are meant to be.”
“No,” I whisper and earn another slap across the cheek.
“You shut your whore mouth!” he screams in my face, spittle hitting me. His breath stinks like old coffee, and he has something stuck in his teeth. I must be in shock because that strikes me as funny. “Don’t you laugh at me.”
“This whole thing is laughable,” I reply. He’s going to kill me anyway. I might as well be honest. “What, are you going to take me up to your apartment and keep me hostage there?”