Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22436 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
I hold my gun at the ready while Maxim gets ready to kick it in. On three, he mouths, and I nod in confirmation.
One. Two. Three.
Chapter Fifteen
KARMEN
“S ign it.” My mother holds out the pen, forcing me to take it.
“Who are you?” I pretend I still have no clue what is going on. It’s really the only move I have left to play at this point.
“It doesn’t matter.” She flicks her gaze over to Andrew. “What’s wrong with her?”
“It’s the meds.”
“Whatever.” She shakes her head in annoyance. “Sign the paper.”
“My hands are kind of occupied.” I hold up my bound wrists and then I notice she can’t even look me in the eye.
I have no idea what the paperwork is. It says something about a trust across the top of it, and I believe I recognize the names of my maternal grandparents. I think I might have met them once or twice when I was very young.
“Untie her hands,” she orders Andrew.
Andrew grabs me by the hair, pulling my head back. “Are you going to behave?”
“Whatever gets her out of here quicker,” I say honestly.
I don’t want to tell him that I’ll behave. It’s a small defiance, but I would like for him to free my hands. When he pulls out the knife, I swallow hard. Thankfully, he’s careful as he slides it through the tape and frees my hands. After I pull the tape off my wrists, they are throbbing.
“Now.” She pushes the pen toward me, and as I take it from her hand, I notice Andrew stepping away from me. He still has the knife in his hand, but he’s smart to be cautious. It would end badly for me if I attacked him now, but I’m not going to go down without a fight.
“What do I sign?” I play dumb.
“Karmen Phillips,” she snaps.
“With a C or K?” I’m probably selling this too hard, but no use in making it easy for her.
“K,” she spits, and I sign the paper. The second I’m done, she snatches the pen from my hand before I have a chance to do anything.
“Our deal is done,” Andrew tells my mother excitedly.
“Yeah.” She picks up the papers, and I stare at her, willing her to say something. Anything. I don’t know why I bother because it’s clear she’s a shitty person. But still, it burns. “It was nice knowing you.”
With those parting words, my mother turns and walks away. Her heels click loudly on the concrete floor as she leaves me alone with Andrew.
“Now it’s finally the two of us alone.” Andrew runs a finger down my arm. “Come with me.” He guides me deeper into the old building, pushing open one of the hallway doors.
When I think things couldn’t get creepier, Andrew goes and proves me wrong. He wasn't lying when he claimed to have gotten my things from my mother. It’s almost a complete replica of my childhood bedroom. I hate it, but then again I always had.
My mother designed my bedroom, and everything was always about appearances. She decorated the entire house as if it belonged in a magazine. In terms of her taste in home design, it was very traditional. I think she was going for an old-money vibe, but it always came off as stuffy and bland.
“Do you love it?” Andrew comes up behind me, and I close my eyes, praying he doesn’t touch me.
“It’s beautiful,” I lie. What else can I say? I’m not trying to piss him off. Not yet, anyway. I don't want him to tie my hands again.
“Really?” He sounds so hopeful, so I nod my head.
“It feels like home.”
“You are home, my precious.”
I’m really starting to hate that word. It’s like we’re in Lord of the Rings, but Gollum has a bit more hair than Andrew does. Although they could probably pass for siblings.
“How come you never told me you danced?” Andrew asks as he steps around in front of me. I watch as he walks over to the dresser and places the knife on top of it. It’s next to a picture of me at one of my ballet recitals. That feels like a lifetime ago.
“I quit a few years back,” I admit. I miss it, but my mother ruined it for me. She really does ruin everything.
“I think it’s time you got back to it.” Andrew pulls out a pale pink leotard, holding it up. It’s so tiny that it might actually be mine from when I was a kid.
“I’m not sure I remember how.”
He walks towards me, and thunder strikes. It makes me flinch as the whole building shakes.
“You’ll do it for me,” he says, and it chills me to my bones.
When he cups my cheek with his cold hand, my heart starts to pound in my chest. I'm running out of time and there's no way out. I can’t believe this is happening or that my own mother abandoned me to this freak.