Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 480(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I don’t know how long I stay awake, thinking, contemplating, breaking down possibilities and next steps. The only thing I know for sure is that I cannot be here in this cabin when he wakes up.
Chapter 9
Ethan
The little thief is gone in the morning. I’m a pretty light sleeper, which means she was as quiet as a mouse on her way out, trying her hardest not to wake me. I’m not surprised she was successful. If she was stealthy enough to steal my wallet without me noticing, I’m sure it wasn’t all that hard to sneak out without rousing me.
I know she saw me last night. I wanted her to see me when I walked out of the shower. I wanted her to have to lie there all night wondering how the hell we came to be bunkmates in this tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere. I wanted all the possibilities to fester in her mind, the more sinister the better.
I sit up and let my bare feet hit the wood floor, digging the heels of my palms into my tired eyes. I could use a few more hours of shuteye. Last night, I tossed and turned longer than I usually do, unable to put her out of my mind. That wasn’t part of my plan. I was supposed to be sleeping like a baby while she stayed up worrying.
Even now, she’s gone, but her scent still lingers. It’s sweet and feminine, like a ripe juicy peach.
I smelled it all night.
I need to get out of here.
I brush my teeth and stare angrily at my reflection. This isn’t like me. I’m not a vindictive asshole in my normal life. I mean, sure, I’m not the most easygoing guy. In fact, even suggesting that would make my sister, Isla, die from laughter. She says I’m more of a “strong silent type,” whatever that means. I talk…when I feel like there’s something worth saying. I guess I’ve always been a little reserved and more serious than my friends. I don’t know. My parents tell me I was a shy kid. Maybe I never really grew out of it.
The point is, just because I’m not Mr. Happy-Go-Lucky doesn’t mean I walk around conjuring up revenge plots. I would have let it go with Taylor. Yes, Taylor—I know her name because I read her application. I know for her last job she worked as a maid at the motel where I stayed last month. No doubt it was a convenient location for her, right next to the bar and all. I wonder how many guys came before me, how much money she’s stolen.
A part of me feels pity for her, but then I remember she’s here, working for my company and lying about her identity.
Surely conning guys at the bar is a much quicker way to make a buck than an honest day’s work, but then again, I haven’t been assured that’s the reason she’s here. It’s why I have her rooming with me. I want to keep an eye on her.
Unfortunately, my work gets in the way of that a little. I don’t exactly have all day to follow her around like I’m a secret agent on a stealth mission. I’m up at the jobsite all morning ensuring things are good to go for the crew to start demolition tomorrow. Right now, they’re all trapped inside the mess hall watching OSHA training videos. I head there at lunch because I’m starving, but also because I know she’ll be there.
I walk in the back and scan the rows of bodies facing a large projection screen. More than half the guys are wearing baseball hats, so she blends in surprisingly well. I’m about to give up when movement near the back catches my attention and I spot her profile as she leans in and whispers something to the guy beside her. He chuckles quietly and shakes his head.
She presses her hands together pleadingly, but he crosses his arms over his chest then nudges his head toward the video like he wants her to be paying attention.
Interesting.
I wonder if she’s taken his wallet yet.
“This food isn’t half bad,” Hudson says, coming up to stand at my left with a full plate. We hired a catering company to provide meals for the crew during the duration of the project. It’s not gourmet dining by any stretch of the imagination, but there shouldn’t be any complaints. For lunch, they’ve prepared baked potatoes with chopped beef. Hudson has so much barbecue sauce poured over his it’s about to spill over the sides.
“Bring mine out to the site, will you?” I ask, already turning for the door. “And go easy on the sauce.”
Hudson’s job doesn’t usually involve preparing my lunch, but today it does.
I wanted to check up on Taylor and I have. I’ve confirmed she’s where she’s supposed to be, even if she’s not doing what she’s supposed to be doing: paying attention to the training videos. Out of everyone on the crew, she’s easily the least experienced when it comes to construction. She should be up in the front row taking notes, acting like a star pupil. I guess it doesn’t really matter though. She won’t be anywhere near heavy machinery starting tomorrow.