Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Good morning, delicious little cherry bomb,” Tristan said. He motioned for her to sit beside him at an iron bistro style table for two where a tray sat with a carafe, mugs, and cream and sugar dish. His cell phone sat beside his mug. She eyed it.
“Coffee?” he asked. He stared, undressing her with his eyes. It wouldn’t take much, given that all she was wearing was that red silk robe with not a stitch underneath.
Kyla nodded. She didn’t know how she even got through yesterday without coffee. He poured a splash of milk and 2 heaping spoons filled with coarse raw sugar into it. That’s exactly how she took her coffee, raw sugar and all, but she hadn’t told him that. Most people put too much milk in her coffee for her liking, too. He’d gotten it perfect. She frowned. Was he a mind reader or something?
“There are some boxes beside the desk. They’re your belongings,” he said, as he stirred the coffee. He looked at her face then pushed the cup toward her and sucked on the spoon. His mouth. It was distracting.
How can my mind go there at a time like this? That sexy mouth is filled with murderous teeth! He was smirking. Why was he smirking? Wait, What?
“Did you just say my belongings are here?” she pointed down at the table, “Here?”
“I’ve spoken to managers at the restaurant and the bar. And your roommate. No one is worried.”
“What? You what?” she was flabbergasted. The stack of boxes; was that the total sum of her life? He spoke to Daisy? What the ---?
“I had Sam pick up your things this morning. When I went out yesterday, before you tried to run,” he looked at her disapprovingly, “I had gone to speak to the people who might be concerned about you. They know you’re safe. I had your roommate pack for you.”
“Safe?” she laughed cynically, “Am I?”
He blinked at her.
“What did you say to people?”
“Does it matter?” he muttered into his cup and took a sip of his coffee.
“They didn’t find it strange that I’ve been missing for over 24 hours and that I haven’t called?”
She waited. He didn’t answer; he just looked at her coolly.
“I’ve never missed a day of work without notice until now. Someone they’ve never met is speaking for me and, what? Having my belongings picked up? I don’t understand how anyone could be okay with that.”
“I can be very convincing. Maybe not to you, but to other people... I can be convincing.”
It started to sink in, “Ah. You hypnotized them.”
He sipped his coffee and shrugged, looking pleased with himself. Kyla shook her head in astonishment. Her anger started to rise. She folded her arms across her chest. She seriously wanted to throw something.
“Did you drink their blood, too? Did you fuck my roommate into submission?”
“Would it bother you if I did? Would you be jealous?” he raised a brow at her.
Kyla’s face reddened, “You are such a dick.”
He rolled his eyes but had a smirk on his face, “Don’t be ridiculous. She’s not my type. You’re my type.” After a beat of silence he moistened his lips and continued, “But certain measures have been taken and I can’t say for sure that Sam didn’t have a taste; he is partial to blondes with big tits,” Tristan snickered. “You need to know all this so that you aren’t fretting about what’s happening out there.”
“Fretting? My life is out there!” she spat.
“From everything I’ve surmised it wasn’t all that much of a life.”
Well that felt like a blow to the gut. He was right, though. What was out there? Two crappy jobs, a few acquaintances she kept at arms’ length, and a past she wanted to forget. What else? No family. No boyfriend. Not even a pet to miss her and/or notice she’d been abducted.
But despite all of it she hadn’t given up on life. She always believed in possibilities. She’d never lost hope. She had been saving up to go back to school. In a few months she’d have enough money to quit one of her two jobs and go to college. She had some friends that she was starting to get close-ish to. Screw him; such as it was this life was hers!
“Screw you. What do you know about my life?”
He looked at her with pity. She hated that expression on his face. She looked down at her nails.
“I know more than you’d expect. Your friends were forthcoming. And I did a bit of research. I know you’re an orphan with no family, that you were raised in foster care in Ottawa and that you moved to Toronto a few years ago. Your roommate, Daisy, who was happy to share plenty of useless information, she didn’t know all that much about you but yet she said she was probably your closest friend. Strange. Your regular customers at that greasy spoon were also eager to talk about how much everyone loves your spunk but can’t figure out why you’re so guarded. I know you work constantly, you don’t sleep enough, and that you don’t date. Men express interest but you typically ignore them or knock them down a few pegs when they have the audacity to be nice to you. You don’t really let anyone get close to you, do you? And screw me? Watch what you say to me, Kyla, if you haven’t figured it out yet you will; I take things very literally.”