Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“What’re you doin’ with all your sheets?”
“Ah,” I don’t know how to tell him this. God dammit, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. “I got my period.”
His eyes widen, but he gathers himself quickly. “I didn’t think of that. Fuck. Sorry. I’ll organize for you to get some protection.”
God. I could curl up and die right now.
“That would be great. I’ll put these in the wash and then, ah, tell you what I need.”
I rush past him and put the sheets in to wash, then I meet him back in the kitchen. He’s gathering up his keys, and I dare to ask the question I know he’ll shoot me down for, but I can’t help but try.
“Take me with you.”
He exhales. “Can’t do that, you know I can’t do that. People are watching and looking for you. I can’t risk it.”
It was worth a shot.
I nod.
“What do you need?” he asks, looking uncomfortable again.
I clench my jaw for a moment. “Tampons. Just tampons.”
“Right. Ah ... what size?”
I lose it, a snort bubbles from my chest followed by laughter.
“What?” he grunts.
“Nothing, it’s nothing. Just regular, please. And pads. I need some pads.”
He looks like he’s about to lose his shit now, too. “Pads?”
“Yes, sanitary napkins, underwear pads, whatever. You know, you stick them on and they stop you messing things up.”
“I got it,” he mutters.
“Never bought this stuff before, have you?”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s a first.”
“Well, best of luck in there.”
He hesitates, shoving his keys into his pocket. “Anything else?”
“Chocolate. Wheat bag. Soda. Painkillers. Oh, and those yummy cheese puff things.”
He gives me a look.
I smile.
He’s about to learn just what a woman needs when she’s on her period.
He should have thought of that before capturing me.
Karma is a bitch.
9
When Jagger gets back, I’ve finished washing the sheets, drying them, and remaking the bed. I have also cleaned the room, the kitchen, and am just finishing up with the final load of clothes I washed. God damn man took forever, and I was beginning to think I was going to have to use toilet paper forever.
“I got hit on,” he grunts, tossing the bag of items onto the kitchen counter, “a lot.”
I raise my brows. “For buying tampons?”
“Apparently, it’s horribly sweet, kind, and generous of a ‘boyfriend’ to buy his ‘girlfriend’ tampons.”
I bite my lip, trying not to laugh.
He opens the bag while I’m still fighting back a laugh. He tosses me three packets of tampons, two packets of pads, and some sort of period underwear. Then he pulls out chocolate, ice cream, frozen pizza, and a few rented movies.
“What’s all that?”
“The girls said you’d be crazy hormonal and would need lots of bad, bad food. They also said movies, so ... I got you some.”
“The cheese puffs?” I question.
He gives me a look.
“Pushing it?”
“Pushing it,” he grunts.
I take the bag of items and give him a grateful smile—he returns it weakly. He’s not himself this morning, and I wonder what’s going on. I walk into the bedroom and clean myself up, relieved that is over. When I’m cleaned up, I come out, and he’s on the phone. He has his back to me, head dropped lower, and he talks quickly and harshly.
“Yeah, bring him over.”
He hangs up the phone and turns to me, jerking a little when he notices me.
I narrow my eyes. “Is everything okay?”
He nods sharply, but as he begins looking for something in the kitchen, I can’t help but notice how he’s slamming things and cursing every time he can’t find whatever it is he’s looking for. Whoever was on the phone, it has him in a really bad mood.
“Jagger?”
He doesn’t answer; he just slams a tin down on the counter and swears once more.
“Jagger,” I say again.
He spins around to glare at me. “What?”
“What’s the problem?”
“They’ve got your father. He’s coming here.”
My heart comes to an abrupt halt, and I stare at him. My father. They have my father. I knew that was the plan, that all along it was how this was going to end, but now that it’s happening I don’t know how to feel. The thought of seeing a man I thought was dead just makes everything inside me go numb. Heart racing, I look to the man who captured me, confused.
“You found him?” I whisper.
“Angel found his location, and they got hold of him last night. They’ll be here in half an hour.”
My heart sinks. He didn’t come out on his own? If they found him, it means he didn’t willingly come out.
“How did you find him if he didn’t come out on his own?”
“He made calls, he was concerned enough to do that. It was enough to track him.”
I nod. “Are you going to hurt him?”
He looks at me, and the expression on his face tells me the answer before he does. “If he doesn’t provide what we need, we can’t just let him go.”