Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62497 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 312(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
What my brother said is true.
I don’t know what to do with her.
I’m not sure why I’m even here.
Twenty-One
Mayve
I’m unsure why I’m wiping away angry tears as I leave the cab. What Kenzo says and does shouldn’t affect me. We are nothing but a couple of people who agreed to get married to help me get a promotion.
Holding his keys in my hand, I look up.
His place is…nice.
How much money does he have?
It’s black with brown accents, one story, and incredibly large. The gravel walkway crunches under my sneakers as I make my way to the front door, which is also black.
Unlocking the door, I walk in, then shut it behind me.
That’s when I hear deep barking.
I jump, my hand flying to my heart.
And then a low growl echoes in through the dark room.
I flick the light on my phone and try to locate the house lighting. I manage to find it and switch it on. The area lights up, and I see the dog, scruffy looking and lying low as it growls.
Shit, that dog looks mean.
Maybe I should back out slowly.
It licks its lips, and I crouch down.
“Hello, pretty puppy.” It clearly is not a puppy, but I said that anyway. Because how else do you talk to a dog that looks like it wants to tear your damn head off? “Come here, puppy. Come here.” I tap the floor, staying low, and offer the dog my hand. Growing up, I never had a dog, so I’m not all that familiar with them.
It thinks about it for a second before it cautiously comes over and sniffs my hand. When it feels safe, I lift my hand to touch its head. It lets me pet it and almost knocks me over as he moves closer.
“Such a good puppy. Let’s get you fed.”
I stand and look around. The house is clean. Extraordinarily clean, in fact. Turning left past the entrance, I find the kitchen. There’s a large, black double refrigerator, a white island counter with black specks, and a black sink.
Opening the refrigerator, I immediately see the dog food—it’s basically the only thing in there. I reach for it, and the dog jumps up, almost knocking me over. I find his bowl and dump the whole thing in as my phone starts ringing. I check the screen and don’t recognize the number, so I slide it back into my pocket, and it stops.
“Answer your phone.” I jump at the sound of Kenzo’s voice. It echoes as my phone starts ringing again. Pulling it out of my pocket, I lift it to my ear and try to locate the camera, speaker, or whatever gadget he’s using. I spot it high up in the corner of the kitchen.
“Hello,” I say, rummaging around for a spoon to get the rest of the dog food out of the can.
“He’s not meant to have the whole can.”
I roll my eyes. “Ah-ha,” I exclaim, pulling open the silverware drawer, putting my phone on speaker, and placing it on the counter.
“Has he bitten you?” he asks.
“Go to sleep,” I tell him, looking at the camera. “I heard what you said before about me.” I pause and check on the dog. “Loner, no friends.” I shrug. “I don’t see a problem with that, do you?” I look back up. “Do you have any friends?”
“I have two.”
“And who are those two?” I ask as I place the bowl down on the floor. I pet the dog’s head as he dives into his dinner.
“Grayson. He’s my friend… And you.”
“I wouldn’t classify me as your friend,” I say. “I’m hanging up now.” He starts to speak, but I press the end-call button. The dog scarfs his food and then trots straight to the back door. It has a doggie door installed, and he runs through it.
I stare up at the camera.
“I lied.” His voice comes through the hidden speakers, “I do want you.”
“Good for you,” I say as I put the dog bowl in the sink.
“If I weren’t hurt right now…”
I walk out of sight and move to the back of the house, where I see two doors. The lights are low and more like mood lighting. Dragging my hands along the wall, I walk down the hallway. The first door is just a bedroom with nothing but a bed in the center of the room. When I push open the second door, I see another bed, but this one has a dresser with items scattered over the surface, so it’s clearly the one Kenzo sleeps in.
I push the door all the way open and step inside. Hanging on the opposite wall from the bed are two computer screens. Odd, but okay. And in the corner is a desk with a computer and another two screens. He does love his computers, by the looks of it. His bed has a blue duvet thrown over it and is only slightly messy on one side. I pull open the bedside drawer and find a container. Curious, I pull it out and open it—it’s full of surgical knives.