Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
After a pause, I put a small piece in my mouth. I try not to cringe as I chew. It’s an instinct that makes me feel weak when Aiden looks at me so closely, with so much apparent concern in his eyes. I force myself to swallow it.
“Do I need to go, ahh?” I say.
He smirks, shaking his head, munching on his bacon.
“Who do you think will sneak up on us? My brothers?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not worried about them.”
“Who?”
“That’s another question.”
“You’re being vague to make me eat more. See, I can read you, too.”
“Maybe I am,” he replies, chuckling. “It doesn’t change the fact we had a deal, does it?”
I cut myself another piece of bacon. This time, I wash it down with some water. He’s looking at me as though he’s proud, which means more to me than it should. I want him to be proud of something as simple as a few mouthfuls of bacon. No, not a few, two.
“My brothers?” I ask.
“It’s nobody specific,” he replies. “It’s just … Why wouldn’t I be careful, Ania? The world can be a cold, dangerous place. I don’t see why I would risk leaving myself open to an attack. I know how that sounds to some people.”
“How does it sound?”
He tsks and nods at the plate. My belly begins to warble. I wonder if he can see the indecision threatening to tear through me because he leans forward, nodding slowly, piercing eyes aimed at me. It takes a lot of effort, but I manage to eat another mouthful, and then he says, “It sounds like I’m a psycho.”
“That makes two of us,” I whisper, leaning back, my gaze automatically flitting around to look for the bathroom.
“You’re staying right here with me,” he tells me. “Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to keep playing the game.”
Translation: he won’t ask me to eat anymore.
“What happens now?” I ask with my hands over my belly.
“We finish this and then return to the lodge.”
“How about after, with … Molly?” I almost said Mom, but calling her that feels ridiculous after what happened. How can I think of her as my mom when she wants nothing to do with me?
“I don’t know,” he says gruffly.
“Maybe you should just take me home. We can pretend this never happened. My brothers have both recently gotten married. They’re the happiest they’ve ever been. Now they have to deal with me disappearing.”
“Your brothers are—”
“My brothers are my brothers,” I hiss. “So stop putting them down. Stop thinking you know everything.”
His lips contort into a frown, but then he reaches over and places his hand on mine again. This time, he squeezes tightly, almost like he’s trying to tell me he’ll always be here for me. Where do thoughts like that come from? It’s just so silly.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
I gasp. That’s the last thing I expected to hear from him.
“I am,” he goes on. “I don’t know the relationship you have with your brothers.”
“Yet you seem to hate them.”
“They’re criminals,” he says, as if that explains everything.
“They’re good people. They don’t do the nasty, evil things the others do. They actually would rather be poor and have no power than do any of that crap. Believe me.”
“Hmm.”
“I’m being serious. Don’t hmm me.”
The second I snatch my hand away, regret tries to scream at me. What the hell are you doing? I have to be strong. When I stand, he does, too, looking down at me like he’s getting ready to grab me. My body tingles in all sorts of ways it shouldn’t at the thought.
“I need to use the bathroom.”
“Ania—”
“I need to really use it. Stop assuming you know what I’m going to do, especially if you think the worst all the time.”
“I’ll need to come with you.”
“How will that look, huh?”
Before he can reply, I march across the diner. The waitress gives me a sideways look, and I almost bark at her. Something stops me, though. It might be because it would be the most over-the-top thing to do. It would only draw attention to me, which is the last thing I need right now, especially if I want my plan to work.
Walking down the hallway, I pick up the pace, dart to the left, and push open the fire door. An alarm immediately blares. I can’t afford to stop and think or worry about all the commotion.
I run onto the street, my heart pounding, not letting myself think. If I let myself think, my instincts will probably try to lead me back to him. I’ll end up running into his arms like some damsel in distress. I refuse to be that person. I can’t live my whole life scared.
Taking a quick turn, I dash down an alleyway. I need to get away from Aiden—even if I don’t want to—and find a phone.