Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 746(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Which am I going to pick up?
But I already know the answer.
With a trembling hand, I grab my phone and hit the button to reach the person I call most.
“Whit,” my brother answers. “What’s going on?”
I look at the clock. Eight fifty-nine. I have less than sixty seconds to give Vance an excuse. It’s too late to explain the truth.
“I’ll be gone for the next week. I’ll call you when I get home next Saturday night.”
“Where are you going?” He sounds confused.
“I can’t say.”
“Who are you going with?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“What the fuck is happening?” Now he sounds alarmed. “I’m coming over there.”
“Don’t. I won’t be here. Just…trust me.”
“I do, but this isn’t like you.”
“I’m doing what’s best for both of us. Please try to stay out of trouble while I’m gone. Please. Don’t do anything. Don’t sign anything. Don’t—”
“Yeah, yeah. You don’t have to hound me.”
Yes, I do, and we both know it.
“I’m sorry,” I say finally. “I’ll talk to you in a week.”
“Can’t you call me while you’re away?” Now he sounds downright worried.
“No.”
Even if I was allowed to bring my phone, I’m sure Jett will keep me too busy under his thumb—and in his bed—to even try.
Outside, the headlights in my driveway flash off and on again. That’s my cue.
“I have to go.”
“Are you going to be all right? You’re not doing anything dangerous, are you?”
I don’t lie to him, at least not any more than I already am. “I’ll talk to you next week. I love you.” That’s something I never say because sentiment annoys him, but I need to get the words out…just in case. “Bye.”
Then I hang up. I don’t reach out to my fiancé. He won’t miss me; he doesn’t care. He’s probably spending his weekend with strippers and drugs. We both know I’m aware of his coping mechanisms. I’ll deal with that mess when I get back.
Resolved, I power down my phone, leaving it on the table. Vance will come over while I’m gone. He’ll try to figure out where I went. He’ll see my phone right away and realize that attempting to contact me is pointless.
I grab the burner phone Jett foisted on me and rise on shaking legs. Outside, I lock my front door, tuck my house key into the flowerpot on my porch, and make my way to the sleek black Mercedes sedan. It reminds me vaguely of a car my grandmother drove as a kid. But the warm fuzzy ends there.
As I approach, a tall stranger unfolds from the driver’s seat and makes his way to me wordlessly, holding the back door open. I nod as I climb into the car. There’s a partition between the driver and me. I hear him slide into the idling vehicle, but I can’t see where he’s taking me. I have no idea what’s going on.
I must be crazy.
After a few turns, I lose track of where we’re going. North, I think. We’re on the highway now. The car is no longer starting and stopping with the traffic. So now this stranger behind the wheel is simply whisking me with no impediments toward my doom.
I swallow and peer out the window, into the night. Nothing. I see nothing but fields. Nothing is familiar. Nothing to use as a landmark to tell people where to find me if I’m in danger. I don’t think Jett would hurt me.
But I’ve been wrong about him before.
I turn the phone he gave me over in my hands. It’s not too late. I could still call him and tell him I’ve changed my mind.
But why? Vance needs his cash, and we have no new prospects.
That’s not the only reason, the seditious part of my brain whispers.
If I’m being completely honest, I’ve waited eight horrible years to set eyes—and anything else I could—on Jett Dean. If this is the only way I can have him, I’m willing to take my chances.
But when I glance down at the device, digital numbers flash the time at me. Nine forty-seven. I’m two minutes late to text him. I don’t hurry to rectify my lapse. Instead, I set the device in my lap and wait.
I’m going to surrender to him; that’s a given. And despite the fact I’m baiting the bull, I’m not going to make it easy.
Suddenly, the phone in my hand vibrates.
With a bracing breath, I answer. “Yes, Jett.”
“You didn’t text.”
“You made it clear that I would be at your beck and call once I was under your roof and in your bed. Until then, I’m still my own woman. Fuck off.”
He doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “You know there are consequences for your defiance?”
Of course. I’m looking forward to it. “I’m in your car with your driver, on the way to your location so I can be your sex slave for the week. I’d say you’ve already won and that you shouldn’t bother sweating the small stuff.”