Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I’m shocked. Confused. Everything is upside down, and I don’t know which way is up or down. How do you escape a box of torment when you can’t find the door?
“Help me?” I croak.
“Yes, let me help you get out of here.” He pauses and takes a deep breath before continuing. “I have a helicopter that I can get you on. It’ll fly you to the airport. After that, you’re on your own, but it’s better than nothing.”
He’s giving me a way out, an exit. I’d be stupid not to take it, but what if it’s a trap?
What if it isn’t, and you pass up the opportunity?
Knowing that Quinton won’t protect me any longer and that I’m nothing to him gives me the push I need.
I can’t stay here. Not anymore. Not without his protection.
“You would do that?”
“Don’t get any ideas. I’m not doing it for you, but yeah, I would do it.”
I nod. “Okay, take me to the helicopter.” I swallow around the knot of fear in my throat. I can’t believe I’m doing this.
“Are you sure?” Ren asks earnestly.
“Yes. Please, help me. I can’t stay here any longer. I’m not safe.”
With a nod, he takes a step back and walks around me. I quickly grab a bag from under my bed and stuff the essentials inside. While Ren is on the phone with someone telling them to get the helicopter ready, I put on my boots and jacket. When I’m finished, I stop and stand in front of Ren. I give him a nod, signaling that I’m ready.
He surprises me by reaching for my bag and offering to carry it without words. I hand it to him, grateful for his kindness.
Matteo groans on the floor as he starts to come back to, and the need to get out of here reaches a new peak.
“Follow me,” Ren orders, and like a mouse, I follow him. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to keep all my broken pieces together.
Ren doesn’t look at me, not when we step into the elevator or even when we reach the double doors that lead outside. The cold air pricks my lungs, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I’m chilled to the bone, the cold air seeping into every pore on my body.
Ahead a helicopter sits, its propellers slicing through the air. It’s now or never, I tell myself. Ren hands me my bag and gestures toward the helicopter. I look back at the elevator doors, almost willing Quinton to appear, but he won’t. He doesn’t care about me.
“Thank you!” I yell, hoping he can hear me over the propellers as I climb into the helicopter, where a pilot is sitting in the seat. He doesn’t look back at me, and I don’t say anything. My hands shake as I buckle myself, and I blink back tears, trying to stop myself from crying. He doesn’t deserve my tears or pain, but they belong to him anyway.
Ren gives me a wave, a smirk on his lips, and then the helicopter is rising into the air, the engine roaring in my ears.
Why is he smirking, and why do I get the feeling that something bad is about to happen?
37
QUINTON
The ringing of my phone startles me awake, and for a moment, I’m disoriented with the lingering sleep. Patting the bed next to me, I search for my phone. When I find it, I squint while looking at the screen and see Scarlet is trying to FaceTime me.
I sit up and use the back of my hand to rub the sleep from my eyes before I answer the call.
“Hey.” Her smiling face comes into view. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”
“It’s fine. I was just resting my eyes.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Why do you think something is wrong?”
“Because you are not even fake smiling. You look sad,” Scarlet points out. Dammit, why does she have to be so attentive?
“I’m fine. Just tired,” I lie. Well, it’s half of a lie. I am fucking tired, but I’m also upset.
“Is it about Aspen? Did you guys have a fight?”
I huff out a breath. I don’t particularly want to talk to Scarlet about this, but I also know she’s not going to let it go, and it’s not like I can talk to anyone else.
“I wouldn’t call it a fight. I just found something out about her, something that proved to me that everyone was right. She’s just like her father, someone who can’t be trusted.”
“What happened?”
“I found Adela’s bracelet in her room. She stole it from her. Probably to use it as blackmail or whatever was going on in her slimy mind.”
“Wait. Aspen has Adela’s bracelet?”
“Had,” I corrected her. “I took it from her.”
“Did she not explain how she got it?”
“Explain?” I ask, dumbfounded. “What is there to explain? She stole it. She stole from us, from her. I didn’t give her a chance to say anything after I found it. I don’t want to hear another word out of her mouth. Ever.”