Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
My surroundings only grow increasingly bizarre as Flint leads us deeper into the basement.
A seemingly endless hallway snakes before us, with doors on each side. And with every step we take, the more vulgar and crazier it gets.
I know I should be more terrified and cautious, but it's difficult to remember the owner of this place as a hardened criminal when his interior design choices include tanks filled with floating fish-shaped condoms (why would people even create this?), peach-shaped bedroom doors (why?), and last but not the least, a powder room with velvet ropes for walls, and a Japanese toilet with what I can only presume to be DC's own face, painted Picasso style, as a seat cover.
The more I see, the more I think we're at the wrong place.
How can my Sunlight be—-oh!
That noise!
I grab the back of Flint's shirt in a frantic tug and point to the door on my left.
He raises a brow, and I nod vehemently. If you've been around dogs long enough, you'll know the sound of them making zoomies, and—-who is this guy?
My jaw drops as Flint steps up to the door’s security panel. His fingers move with a precision that’s almost hypnotic—tap here, push there, twist this, slide that.
I'm half-impressed, half-alarmed. Who is he, really? FBI agents shouldn't be criminally good at doing these things. Right? I'm starting to feel suspicious—-but all thoughts of Flint fly out of the window when the door finally swings open.
My baby!
I'm about to run inside when Flint abruptly pulls me back, his expression one of disbelief.
That's Sunlight?
I nod with a mixture of relief and pride. Yes!
He takes his phone out and shows me the photo that I sent him.
Oh.
Right.
I smile at him weakly. That photo was two months ago, I mouth.
Flint looks at me as if he's this close to strangling my neck. Two! Fucking! Months!
I throw my hands up helplessly. Sunlight is a growing boy, and it's not my fault that dogs like him can easily double in size in a matter of weeks.
Sunlight suddenly barks, and the sound makes me flinch while Flint's body turns rigid with tension.
Flint's gaze narrows at me. Can you keep him quiet?
I'll try...
That's what I planned to say, but when Sunlight barks for the second time, everything just happens so fast—-
Oh God.
Sunlight is in Flint's arms—-
No, God, no!
And he can no longer make a sound with Flint mercilessly stabbing my dog in the neck.
The End of the Road
FLINT CHECKED ELIZABETH in the rearview mirror as she slowly ran her hands over her still-unconscious dog and inspected him for injuries while sniffing back tears.
"Everything okay?"
"I'm n-not sure. I felt something under his fur..."
"Is he bleeding?"
"No, thank God. Maybe I'm just overreacting. Or maybe I'm still in shock. I can't believe Sunlight's with me again, and..."
He saw her swallow hard as her gaze sought his.
"Thank you," she whispered. "I don't know how I'll ever pay you back—-"
"You can start by telling me why you'd think I'd be the type to kill your dog just to stop him from barking."
Elizabeth's face reddened. "I'm so, so sorry."
He shot her an unimpressed look. "That's it?"
She started squirming in her seat. "W-What was I supposed to think?"
"Anything but that?"
"You stabbed him in the neck!"
"With a tranquilizer."
"How was I supposed to know that?" she asked helplessly.
"Because I'm not a psychopath?"
"I never thought you were—-"
"So what then? Or are you just used to dating men who either abduct or stab your dog—-"
Elizabeth let out a gasp. "You know I never dated Migs—-"
Her voice noticeably faltered upon saying the other man's name and his grip tightened around the steering wheel.
"You really like saying his name, don't you?"
"I just forgot to call him Culo," she protested. "And...and aren't you the same? You've been...you've b-been judging me this whole time, too. Do you really think I'm the type of girl who'd date my roommate's boyfriend?"
No.
She was not the type to do so, and he had known that from the start.
Just like he also knew that the reason he was suddenly picking fights with her was because the reality of being apart from her had finally started sinking in.
And grown-up man that he was—-
He just didn't know how to fuckle handle it.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
His grip tightened around the wheel until his knuckles started to turn white.
Let her go.
If she really matters
Just fucking let her go.
"When we get to the airport," Flint heard himself say, "you take the first flight out. Doesn't matter where. I'll help you with Sunlight's paperwork. I just need the two of you out of his reach—-"
Elizabeth looked at him in confusion. "But I promised to help you—-"
"I'll take care of him without your help."
"But...didn't you also tell me that's what you've been trying and failing to do for years?"
"That's my problem," he bit out even as his stomach churned at the thought of never seeing her again. "So mind your fucking business."