Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“See? With the right motivation, you can do anything.”
She mumbles something under her breath in response—“fuck you,” I think. But she does as she told, cautiously feeling out each step with her feet as she lowers herself down one step at a time. It takes forever because she’s whimpering and cursing, but once she gets down far enough, I go in after her, feeling along either side of the wall with both hands, until I find the light switch and flip it on.
When she gets to the bottom she stumbles forward across the small room, trips over a bunched-up rug, and falls.
This obliterates the last of her resolve because she just starts sobbing uncontrollably, her face pressed into the rug. When I don’t make a move to help upright her, she yells, “Who are you? Why are you in my house? What do you want? There’s nothing here.”
My words come out with a sneer. “I’m not here to rob you. I told you, I’m in the middle of something. It’s unfortunate that you walked in on it, and I’m sure the next couple of days are gonna suck real bad for you, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’re not gonna get in the way of me completing this job. You’re just not.”
“What happens in a couple of days?”
I don’t answer her. Not because I don’t know what happens in a couple of days, but because she’s being cooperative and, generally speaking, cooperative prisoners stop being agreeable once they understand this won’t help them live in the end.
I walk over to her and the sound of my footsteps must be enough to scare her back into silence, because she stops crying and goes completely still.
I kneel down and attempt to stuff the rag back into her mouth. She protests by shaking her head, then she starts begging. “No! Not the gag. You’ve got me tied up and blindfolded. I don’t need a gag! No one can hear me if I scream!”
My first instinct is to ignore her and just stuff the gag back in, but I realize I need more information from her. “Was anyone meeting you here?”
“No.”
“Then why are you here? The house isn’t really livable. What’s in the trailer?”
“I was fired from my job this morning. I worked at a hotel and lived in a cottage on the grounds, so they kicked me out of it. I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
“What about your friends? How soon before they miss you?” She opens her mouth to say something, but I put up a hand. “Don’t lie to me, either. Because if you say ‘immediately’ thinking I will let you go, you don’t understand my situation. I need three days to finish what I came to do and nothing you say will prevent me from reaching this goal.”
She lets out a breath like maybe she was gonna lie, then takes a few moments and gives me the truth. “No one. No one is gonna miss me because my boss, who doesn’t even know I’ve been fired yet, is in Boston on business. She won’t be back for a week and even if she does try and call me, she won’t get suspicious until Thursday.”
“Well, that’s three days away. Sounds a little convenient to me.”
“Whatever. It’s the truth.”
“What about your friends? The people in Disciple?”
“I haven’t lived in Disciple for over a decade. I haven’t even been back to visit in a few years. I don’t even come home to check on the progress of the house. My friend, Lowyn, does that. And usually, when we want to hang out, she comes out to see me in Virginia at the hotel. I didn’t have a chance to call her and cry about my bad luck yet, so no one knows I’m here.”
Lowyn. As in McBride. As in Collin Creed’s girlfriend.
If I have to kill this woman things will get messy, so obviously, it’s better that I don’t. But she doesn’t need to know that. Still, this doesn’t mean I’m gonna let her get all comfortable and shit either. I reach out, pry her mouth open as she starts to scream, and shove the gag inside.
“Keep quiet until I come back and then, maybe, I’ll take the gag out. But if I hear one more noise, the deal’s off and you’ll sit down here in this little dungeon until some unsuspecting construction worker finds your dead and decaying body six months from now.”
She recoils at my threat, but she doesn’t make a noise.
I walk away, go back up the stairs, flipping the light off as I pass, and then close the trapdoor.
Three days and I’m out of here.
This woman will not be the reason I get sent back to the tunnels.
She won’t.
CHAPTER 3 - CLOVER
Being blindfolded and sitting in the dark below ground means it’s impossible to tell how much time has passed since the man left me down here. Every once in a while, I’ll hear a creak upstairs, but that’s it. It’s been a long time, though. I know this because my lips are so dry they’re cracking and I’m so thirsty, even if the gag wasn’t in my mouth, I doubt I could even swallow because the rag, which smells and tastes like turpentine, is sucking up all saliva inside my mouth so there isn’t a drop of moisture.