Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I could have died. I almost died. And he left me there, not caring.
Nix hangs the towel on a hook, then takes me by the hand like it’s the most normal thing in the world and leads me into his bedroom. I’m naked and shivering, so lost. What do I do now?
He goes to the dresser and comes back with a T-shirt, which he even helps me into. It falls almost to my knees, but it’s soft and clean.
Once he’s finished, he places his hands on my arms again, and I lift my head to look into his eyes. They’re flat, without even the light that usually enters them when he’s having fun with me. How is he so detached? It’s almost like his feelings are turned off or worse, he is so used to this, it’s normal to him.
“Did you see?” I don’t have to explain what I’m talking about.
“I did. Heard it too.” His words are so nonchalant as if seeing his dad choking and threatening to kill me is an everyday event.
“But you’re not surprised.”
“He’s my dad. I grew up with him. You don’t think I know this part of him?”
A shiver works its way through my body, and this time it’s not from the cold. Instantly, my mind goes to Colt and Nix being helpless children in a house trapped with James.
“Go to your room,” he murmurs in a voice that sounds nothing like his. “You need to forget this ever happened.”
Without waiting for me to reply or to ask exactly how that’s supposed to be possible, he goes to the door and opens it, then leads me out into the hall before closing the door on me. There’s nothing for me to do now but go to my room, lie down, and try to do what Nix said. It isn’t like I want to remember anything that just happened anyway.
But how am I supposed to forget?
CHAPTER 17
“No… no!”
I’m half out of my bed by the time I fully wake up, one leg thrown over the side, almost sitting up. Like I was in the middle of dreaming about running away from something. I don’t remember my nightmare clearly, but the fear is fresh and vivid, like I’m in real danger.
The worst part: I am in danger. It’s not like a normal nightmare that will eventually fade away to nothing as the day goes on. I can’t get away from it. I still feel his hand around my throat, thanks to the ache he left behind. That will fade, sure, but the memory will come back every time I look at him.
After a minute, my heartbeat slows to something more regular. Less like my chest is about to explode. I had to leave a light on before finally settling in to go to sleep. No way was I about to lie here in the dark, and now I’m glad for the little lamp burning on my nightstand. That nightmare was bad enough without waking up in the dark, where anything could be hiding.
The chair hasn’t moved from under the doorknob, not that it would without my knowing about it. No way is it moving without the door getting kicked in somehow. That would have woken me up. It’s my only peace, that chair. The only thing protecting me. How pathetic.
It’s the growling from my stomach that makes me check the time. It’s past four in the morning—no wonder I don’t hear any TV, music, or video games coming from elsewhere in the house. Even my stepbrothers are quiet at this time of the day. Maybe I should start keeping a schedule opposite to theirs. Stay awake overnight, and sleep during the day. Less chance of seeing them.
It was the threat of seeing them that kept me up here all night, even through dinner. I never ate. I was too afraid to step foot into the hallway. Now I regret it. I’m wide awake, so I cannot ignore my hunger by going back to sleep.
I might as well see if the door’s locked. I always assume it will be now. It saves time.
I couldn’t be more surprised to turn the knob. They left it unlocked. Now’s as good a time as any to run down to the kitchen and grab some food. The guys are bound to be asleep. I’m too hungry to worry too much longer, anyway.
When I make it to the kitchen without running into anybody or finding evidence of either of them hanging around, I head straight for the refrigerator. There are small yogurt smoothies on one of the door’s shelves, and I grab one, uncapping it quickly and gulping half of it back before coming up for air. There are packages of turkey and cheese in the drawer, and I take both of them, along with mustard and mayo. I have time to make a sandwich, and maybe I can find protein bars or something to take up and store in my dresser in case there are times I can’t make it down here.