Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 430(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Gripping the seatbelt, I asked, “Will I get a phone call? I just—like I said, my daughter is with a friend, and I—I’ll probably need to call her parents.”
He looked at me in the rearview mirror, his blue eyes dazzlingly bright despite the low light of the parking lot. “That wasn’t you spinning a line?”
Oh god, he thought I was lying. I was never going to be able to handle this.
I inhaled shakily until my entire body burned with the pressure of it and shook my head. “No, I…”
The emotion took me. This time, there was no fighting it. Panic flushed through my veins with the sick force of adrenaline, and the tears I’d successfully held back stung cruelly as they fell down my cheeks. Every attempted breath hitched, closer to hiccups than an actual attempt at calming myself down.
My ears even throbbed as blood rushed through my body. The swishing pulse of my own heartbeat pounded through my mind. Somehow, through it, I heard the opening and closing of doors, but my face was in my hands and I couldn’t breathe or think or process or—
“Breathe into this,” a softer, but still husky, voice said to me. “Here. Breathe on my counts.”
Paper covered my mouth. Fingers brushed against my cheek as they held the bag in place and slowly counted me down from full-scale panic to hysterical crying to, finally, subdued tears that wouldn’t stop falling.
“Here. Tissue.” He handed me a small, pocket-sized packet of tissues.
Gratefully, I took them. I had no idea what I looked like, and there was nothing this packet of tissues could do to fix the inevitable mess I was in, but I had wipes in my bag. Whether I could use them or not…
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, blowing my nose. “I’m just worried.”
He said nothing.
“I, um, I have some facial wipes in my purse. Do you mind if I get them?”
“I would advise you do before going out in public again.” He reached between the seats and grabbed my purse from the floor of the front seat.
The man could stretch.
“Here.”
“Thank you. I didn’t want you thinking I had a gun or anything.” I pulled the packet from my purse, along with my compact mirror, and examined the damage. Black streaks across my cheeks, lipstick smudged…Yeah, that was about right.
“Do you have a gun?”
I shook my head, cleaning my right eye. “I couldn’t hit a dartboard with a meteor. I definitely do not own a gun.”
He chuckled quietly. When I was done cleaning my face, he held up a small bottle of water. “Water?”
I stared at him.
“You’re looking at me like I have two heads.” He was clearly attempting to control his laughter. “It’s only water. I promise I didn’t poison it. It’s sealed, see?”
“No, I…Weird situation…” I trailed off. Gathering myself with a quick, jerking shake of my head, I said, “Yes, please. Water would be great.”
He handed me the bottle and I opened it—it was actually sealed—and drank. My throat was raw from my attempt at controlling my breathing, so even though the water was warm, it was soothing all the same.
“Feeling better?” he asked, eyes fixed on me.
“Yes. Thank you.” I recapped the bottle and cleared my throat. “Can we just go and get this over with?”
“Good idea.”
He got back into the front seat, and I put my seatbelt on like he asked. I trained my attention on the bottle in my hands. I didn’t want to watch my journey to the police station. Plus, the longer I looked out of the window, the longer the journey would take.
How many ways could I explain this when I called Felicity’s parents? I could say it’s a family emergency—a recent reconnection. A sick grandparent from out of town? I didn’t want to lie about that kind of thing, but at this point, everything was a lie.
The only truth in my life was my daughter, and all I was doing was tainting her perfect life with my bad choices.
This was one step too far, and if I ever got out of this on the other side, something would have to change.
Like it was that easy. Like I could make my life change in a heartbeat. I didn’t want my family’s dirty money—they weren’t really my family anyway.
But if it meant Lola couldn’t get hurt…
“Here.”
I looked up. He’d pulled up at the side of a road just feet from the hotel.
“Did you forget something?” I asked, looking from the hotel to him.
He reached over to the folder and ripped out the sheet. “You’re free to go, Ms. Fox. Unless you need a ride home.”
My heart thumped. “I don’t understand.”
The sound of the sheet crumpling into a ball filled the car, and he dropped it on the floor in front of the empty front seat. Turning back to me, he rested his elbow on the back of his seat and his hand on the back of the other.