Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Alexander looked down one side of the road, then the other, and started walking again. We’d made it about thirty feet away from the abandoned driveway before he turned right and started trekking his way back toward the house? To hide our trail?
Soon enough, we were going around the back of a small, dark house, and he was going up the steps of a well-maintained deck. Alexander patted my calf, and I slid off before he suddenly bent over. He flipped a rock upside down and plucked a key from what was apparently not a rock but a hide-a-key. Then, easy-peasy, he unlocked the door and took a step back, gesturing me in.
That was… convenient.
Breaking into someone’s home. Again.
I went in, looking around for cameras but not seeing any. The house was cold. I could instantly tell it was bigger than the place we’d been in last night. He stomped in too, flipping on lights and locking the door.
It was really nice, and bigger than I’d first thought.
I toed off my shoes, rubbing my arms as I wobbled into the kitchen.
I yelled, or I tried to. It came out like more of a squeak.
“There’s a phone!” I croaked.
A real house phone!
I picked it up from where it was set beside a black refrigerator and paused as something bitter set up shop in my throat.
It wasn’t like he hadn’t figured it out already. He already knew all the worst, saddest parts of me, didn’t he?
I thrust the phone toward him, trying to keep my voice steady as I forced myself to meet his eyes instead of his chin. “Are you done pretending you don’t have someone we can call for help, or are you finally going to give me a number we can call?”
His bottom lip dropped maybe a millimeter, but I noticed it.
And if I hadn’t felt like shit and been so sad about the fact I had no one to reach out to, I might have enjoyed it.
He wasn’t the only observant one. Sucker.
“You know a bunch of different languages, you remember everything, and you pay attention. I wouldn’t be surprised if you have an eidetic memory. There’s no way you forget phone numbers. Something broke your back, not your brain.”
To give him credit, his lip snapped back into place instantly. But it was his glowing eyes that almost made me smile as he narrowed them at me. “Yes, I know a fucking phone number.”
Aha! I’d known it. The idea had been in my head since before I’d gotten sick. But the thing was, it made no sense. If he had someone to call, why hadn’t he from the beginning? Why had he stayed with me instead?
Those questions led to an even bigger one that I hadn’t been willing to poke at more than I already had—what was strong enough to hurt him? He’d said nothing on this planet, so…. There was only one answer that I’d come to, and it was a terrifying one. And also possibly the reason why I didn’t want to think about it too much.
I was scared to.
Alexander flicked his gaze toward the phone. “Are you going to dial the number next week or…?” He trailed off.
I blinked. “Did God give you strong bones because he knew you were going to have a personality people wanted to hurt?” I snapped. “What’s the number?”
He huffed.
Did his lip tilt up a little?
It might have, but he read a number off the top of his head, just like I’d expected, the son of a bitch. I dialed it, and once it started ringing, I tried handing him the receiver.
He didn’t take it.
He lifted that snobby, perfect nose at me. “You talk to them.”
“I don’t even know who we’re calling,” I whispered, gesturing toward my throat, reminding him that there was a reason we barely talked for three days.
His expression said more than any words ever could: tough shit.
Oh boy, this man tried my patience. I put my hand over the receiver. “You want me to talk to them because you might say something that makes them not want to help us, huh?”
The fucking look on his face was classic.
I snorted—and instantly regretted it when fire leaped up my nostrils and straight into my skull—just as a deep voice answered, “This is Hephaestus speaking. How may I help you?”
I looked at Alexander, who mouthed instructions out.
All right, he could only blame himself.
I cleared my throat and winced. “Hi… Hephaestus. Can I please speak with Agatha?”
“Hold please.”
There was a click, and I watched Alexander’s even features for a moment before someone picked up. “Yes?”
Yes? That was… weird.
“Hi. My name is Gracie. I’m hoping you might be able to help me, or at least point me in the right direction…?”
Silence.
The jackass in front of me made a circle with his hand, gesturing me to keep going.