Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
I stir the hard potatoes even though I know I don’t need to. But I completely forgot the timer, and the realization makes me lean forward to start it.
With the beep of it being set, and the numbers counting down, I take a step back and lean against the counter.
“What’d he do this time?” Daniel asks me, mirroring my position as he leans on the other side.
“Nothing new,” I tell him and the honesty in those words is what hurts the most.
The soft smile that lingered on his lips vanishes at my reply, and so I focus on the numbers, watching them as if I could speed them up if only I stare hard enough.
“Why won’t he let me leave?” I ask him in a whisper.
Because he thinks you’re someone else. Someone who saved him.
My throat dries, and my words crack as I tell him, “This isn’t right.”
It’s silent for a long while, with only the sound being the water beginning to boil again.
“Because he cares for you,” Daniel finally says, and I look him in the eyes, letting him see the real effect Carter Cross has on me.
“What a way to show it. Killing my family is just the cherry on top.” My sarcastic response makes Daniel’s expression harden.
“I have opinions of your father as well,” he tells me softly, in a tone I haven’t heard from him yet. My heart slams once and I’m forced to look him in the eyes. “I’ll keep them to myself though,” he tells me and then opens the fridge to put the orange juice back.
No doubt so he can leave me. So he doesn’t have to tolerate my self-pity.
“And what about everyone else? Everyone I’ve ever known and loved?” I can barely breathe as I push him for justification.
“If you knew the truth,” he tells me, facing me after shutting the fridge doors, “you wouldn’t blame him.” There’s so much sincerity from him, I almost question my resolve.
“It’s not just my father. So, I can, and I will blame him,” I respond despondently, although I’m undecided on whether or not I believe my own words. When I look up at Daniel, my heart races chaotically and my body freezes.
Addison walks into the kitchen slowly, glancing from Daniel to me before offering me a small smile.
I can’t breathe, and I don’t know what to do. Anxiety pricks at my skin as she takes me in. My hair is still damp from the shower and I’m wearing a sleep shirt. I know my eyes show the lack of sleep and I look like a fucking mess.
More than that, I know Addison doesn’t know who I am. She’s normal. She’s not forced to stay here like I am. Not the same way, at least.
Daniel plays it off far better than I do, wrapping his arm around Addison and giving her a soft kiss that forces her eyes back to him.
Shifting my weight, I glance at the timer and consider just leaving. I don’t know what I’d say to her if I could even look her in the eyes right now.
Hi Addison, I know all about you and I know you don’t know anything about me. I’m Carter’s whore and he’s going to kill my entire family soon, so I’m not allowed to leave. Nice to meet you.
Although that’s not quite true. He admitted I mean more to him. But it’s because he thinks I’m someone else. I’ve never felt more shame than I do right now. Every time I remember his words, I want to cry. Because he never wanted me and the moment he finds out the truth, he’ll throw me away.
“Addison,” Daniel’s voice breaks up my spiteful thoughts as he says, “This is Aria. She’s with Carter.”
She’s with Carter.
His words echo in my head as Addison smiles sweetly, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear and giving me a small, but friendly wave while staying where she is. “It’s nice to meet you,” she says kindly although she glances back at Daniel, no doubt wondering what’s wrong with me.
“Hi,” I offer up a single word and it croaks. I’m not with Carter; I’m against him. Except of course when I’m writhing underneath him.
“She’s having a hard day,” he tells her softly. My heart thumps in the way that hurts. The way that makes it feel like it’s a tight ball that needs air and without it, it only gets tighter.
“Sorry.” I swallow and tell her, “I’m not usually this weird.” I roll my eyes and force a huff of a laugh up to ease the tension.
“You’re not weird,” she says and shakes her head at my words. “Just looks like you’re having a hard day. That’s totally reasonable,” she adds with her hands waving out in front of her. “No judgment here.”
I get the feeling that Addison is lonely from her tone, from her awkwardness. Or maybe I’m just projecting what I feel myself.