Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91560 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Her face flashes in front of my mind’s eye, making me pull my arm back, snarling before I let the bottle fly. It crashes against the wall opposite where I’m standing, shattering loudly. Shards of glass rain down, and I smile grimly at the sight while my heart continues to pound almost painfully. How could she? How could I let it happen?
“What the hell is going on in here?” Dad comes to a stop outside the doorway, gaping in shock that quickly turns to anger when our eyes meet. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“She left me. She fucking left me!” A bitter laugh barks out of me. “I did everything for her! I protected her! I had her live here with us. And she still fucking turned her back on me. Wanna know the worst part?” I ask, grabbing my phone, thrusting it his way after pulling up the message. “She did it through text. I mean, if that’s not the ultimate fuck you, I don’t know what is!” By the time I finish, my chest is heaving, and I’m pretty sure my head is going to split open. Screaming at him doesn’t help anything. Nothing will.
At least he looks sympathetic as he skims the message—then frowns, glancing up from the phone. “And you’re sure this came from her?”
“It came from her phone.”
“But did she type it out? Because to be honest with you, this doesn’t sound like something a girl her age would write. Does it?” He hands it back to me and waits while I read over the contents. “It’s too formal. I’ve been listening to people your age have conversations for longer than I care to remember, and I’ve never heard them sound like this.”
Slowly, his words sink in. And he’s right, this doesn’t sound like Maya. Or is that only what I want to believe? “No, she got spooked, and she ran. That’s the only explanation that makes any sense.”
“Just the same, I think it would be a good idea to see her face-to-face and make sure there’s nothing wrong.” A shadow passes over his face before he adds, “I know I would sleep a lot better if I knew for sure, too.”
I’m too fucked up to know whether this is a good idea or not by the time I get in Dad’s car and strap myself into the passenger seat. I feel like I’m moving through Jell-O, barely able to put one foot in front of the other.
How could she? Then again, did she do anything? Is this all a trick? I want to believe it is. I want it with all of me, so much so I find myself willing it silently. Don’t let it be true. Whatever it is, we can get through it, so long as she’s still with me. I can’t let her go now. I refuse to. Not after everything we’ve shared. Not after everything she makes me feel and want. She can’t open my eyes to this new life, then walk away like it doesn’t matter.
Along the way, Dad places a call. “Dial Paul,” he barks after pulling up his phone on the car’s Bluetooth. He answers right away, and Dad briefly explains what we’re doing while we speed through town. “I’m going over to the house now,” he announces. “Something about this doesn’t add up.”
“I’m five minutes away from there,” Paul confirms. “I’ll meet you.”
Slowly but surely, dread starts to replace the rage pulsing through my body a little faster all the time. “Dad, do you think…”
“I’m not sure what to think yet,” he reminds me, before his foot presses a little harder on the gas pedal. “This is only a precaution.”
But what if he’s right? What if this is all her dad and not her? And there I was, wasting time when I could’ve been helping. I don’t know what to think. I only know nothing matters as much as getting there quickly—and hoping we’re not too late.
Paul pulls up the curb at almost the same time we do, and he looks pretty damn troubled when he meets us at the end of the driveway.
“And his is gone,” Paul concludes, his voice tight. He beats us to the front door, where he rings the bell once, twice, while I cup my hands around my eyes to peer through the window.
“It looks empty,” I confirm while my heart bangs harder than ever against my ribs.
“Exactly what did she say in that message—if it came from her in the first place?” Paul asks. I hand over the phone, my hand trembling, cursing myself for not having more faith in her. Now that I think about it, it’s obvious she wouldn’t type something like that. Like Dad said, it sounds too formal. Like a stranger wrote it.
“Clark? She’s talking about Clark Miller?” Paul looks back-and-forth between Dad and me while his eyes narrow and his face flushes. “Clark Miller is one of the partners in this whole Ponzi scheme. And Maya said she’s going to marry him?”