Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
I do a quick count of the nights and days. Shit, has it really been ten days since the ball? So much has happened. I unmasked the Beast, found Logan. Gave my virginity to the man of my dreams, the man I’ve always loved—
There’s that word again. Love. Do I really feel that for Logan? I mean, we made love last night— I cringe and slump against the wall. Because have we really? Have we made love? Or is this just more of my naiveté? In Logan’s mind, have we just been ‘fucking’?
But no, the things he’s said to me, it’s been more than that, surely…
…says the virgin.
Okay, recently devirginized, but still. What do I know about how men work?
He’s not ‘men’, he’s Logan.
I pace down the hall, arguments churning back and forth in my head. The wood creaks under my frantic steps. I pause at the top of the huge staircase. There’s a watery light coming from the first floor—from the front door.
Logan might be okay with me roaming the castle, but he’d probably get weird if I ran out the door. Because he’s a creepy stalker/psycho captor, whispers the rational part of me.
Yes, but he’s my creepy stalker. And deep down, he’s Logan. Ugh. I wish I had someone to talk to about all this.
Rachel. She’s the perfect person to talk about boys with. Then I shake my head. There’s no way I can tell her about all this.
But thinking about her now, gods, she must be so worried. I haven’t talked to her in days.
I pause halfway down the staircase. I’m about to turn and go back up when a familiar looking bag catches my eye. My purse! On the table next to the door. I skip down the rest of the stairs and grab it. Notebook, chapstick, an empty case for the glasses I’m wearing now. The pair Logan gave back to me.
At the bottom of my purse is my charger. My heart starts thumping double-time. Biting my lip, I go to the door. After a moment of hesitation, I push it open. The stoop is empty. There’s no phone.
Am I disappointed or relieved? I shut the door. Time to go back to Logan.
But before I grab my purse, something makes me open the side table’s drawer. And there’s my phone. Its screen is a little cracked and the battery’s dead, but I have the charger.
I plug it in. It’s been over a week since I’ve touched base with Rachel. I wince. Yeah, bad friend here. Okay, so for some of that I was super sick, but still. I should have called her as soon as I was better. She must be worried like crazy.
The phone’s so super-dead that it takes a few minutes for it to charge even enough to turn on. When it finally does, beep after beep sounds as messages start pouring in.
RACHEL: Hey babe, how’s vacation? Haven’t heard from you lately. Let me know you’re alive, lol
RACHEL: Daphne, this isn’t funny. Message or call, you’re starting to freak me out
RACHEL: Call me right now
RACHEL: I’m serious, bitch, call me or I’m gonna like file a missing person’s report. I’m officially freaked.
That was yesterday. Shit! I immediately dial her number.
“Daphne!” she answers, her voice frantic. “Finally!”
“Hey, Rachel.”
“I can’t believe it’s you.” Her voice is filled with relief. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay.” I touch the window, tracing the patterns left by frost.
“Are you sure? You just disappeared! I know you said you needed to get away for some research but…what the actual fuck?”
I smile at her choice of words. “I know, Rachel. I know, and I’m sorry. Things have been…difficult.”
“I don’t know how to handle this. The press is closing in, asking for you. Nobody knows where you are. Adam Archer keeps calling. He even has private detectives looking for you. I’m this close to telling him to go ahead and file the missing person’s report.”
Shit, Adam. “Don’t do that. I’m alive. I’m fine.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m staying with…a friend. It’s complicated.” Understatement of the century.
Rachel blows out a frustrated breath. “Okay, then, when are you coming back?”
I shut my eyes, leaning my forehead against the freezing glass. “I don’t know. Soon.”
“Daphne,” her voice is half exasperated employee, half worried friend. “You gotta come back. The board is livid. I told them you were doing research and also taking time off for your birthday and the anniversary of your mother’s death, but they’re not buying it. I don’t know how much longer I can hold them off.”
“Not much longer,” I say quickly. Shit. I have to get back to New Olympus. Rachel’s right—I have too much responsibility. “I promise.”
Her voice drops. “It’s not just the company. It’s your father. He’s…not doing well.”
Frost slices through me. I stand. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“The nurses don’t know. It might be the stress and shock from learning we couldn’t reach you—”