Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
How does a person end up like him? I’ve seen good things from him. He was kind to me. Gentle. He could have used me in any way he saw fit when I was falling apart in his arms, but he chose instead to calm me down and be kind and wash me up without asking for anything in return. Deep down inside, there’s a grain of decency in him. I need to focus on that.
And the person he’s talking to, the one who gets him so worked up and intense. I’m sure they make him feel small and powerless, and nobody wants to feel that way. He’s just as trapped as I am. What would I want him to say to me in this situation? What would make me feel better?
On second thought, no. He’ll see through that. And he’ll probably be more pissed than ever that I’m patronizing him or something. So I can’t take it too far. Just a little sympathy, a little understanding.
As I sit here plotting, there’s always that little reminder in the back of my head that this could all be over very quickly if I would just tell the truth. It’s still too risky. He could kill me flat out, angry with himself for being fooled. He’s the one who made the assumption that I’m part of this rival family or whoever they are. I’m sure he wouldn’t like finding out how wrong he was. If he even believed me—and it’s still possible he wouldn’t. Would I if I were in his shoes? Gee, how convenient, after all this time, you’re finally going to tell me the truth? Why didn’t you tell me before? Are you only lying yet again to save your hide?
My stomach churns and threatens to send back the oatmeal I’ve shoveled into my mouth. Something tells me things would get ugly. So honesty is out, too.
“Fine.” He shifts in his chair, and I look up in time to find him clenching his jaw. His nostrils are flared, his eyes narrowed, and his mouth twisted in disgust. “I said fine. I heard you. It’s taken care of.” Then he pulls the phone from his ear, smashes his finger against the screen, and slams it onto the table hard enough to make the spoon jump in his bowl. I can’t help but flinch.
He doesn’t say a word for a long time, which of course, doesn’t comfort me very much. I wish he would say something, anything just so I know he’s not going to explode on me. I’m afraid to breathe too loud in case that’s what sets him off. For some reason, every time he has a conversation with this person, all it does is infuriate him. He was almost being normal for a little while there until the phone rang, and his mood swung back to this sullen, unpredictable version of himself.
“Are you okay?” I finally whisper after what feels like an eternity passes in silence.
“Of course I am,” he mutters. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t know. Because you seemed upset. Do you… want to talk about it?”
He goes from staring at the wall to staring at me like I’m something he’s never seen before. It’s enough to make my skin crawl, but I force myself to take it without reacting.
“What, we’re friends now?” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I’d be in pretty bad fucking shape if I had to go to you for advice.”
At least he’s not threatening me or anything like that, but the cruelty behind his words hurts just the same. Like he’s so much better than me? Where does he get off?
Steady, girl. Right. I can’t afford to let my temper ruin things for me. I’m already screwed as it is.
“I’m just saying. It seems like whenever you talk to whoever that is, they end up upsetting you. I’m sorry that keeps happening.”
“Yeah, I’m sure your heart is breaking for me,” he mutters before snickering. “I’m sure it keeps you up at night, wondering if poor Enzo is doing okay after a phone call from his grandfather.”
Now I know for sure who it is if only so I can keep things clear in my head. I hate the feeling of never knowing who I’m dealing with. “It doesn’t keep me up at night. A lot of other things do, though.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they do.” He ignores the bowl in front of him, standing and pocketing his phone. “Hurry up. Finish eating so I can put you back in your room.”
My heart sinks, and I can’t hide it. “Really?” I ask with a sigh. “Do we have to keep doing that?”
“Last time I checked, I let you walk around here freely, and you tried to run away. What, I’m supposed to trust you now?” Before I can come up with a defense, he shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. I have to go out and deal with some things, so it’s not like I would leave you unlocked anyway.”