Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?” I finally ask, unable to keep the excitement out of my tone.
His eyes lower back to the paper in front of him, and I can’t help but feel dismissed. “Don’t worry about that.”
“How can I not worry? First, you tell me I can’t leave here because it’s not safe. Now you’re telling me to pack a bag. I don’t understand. Is it now, all of a sudden, safe?”
“You’ll be with me. You’ll be perfectly safe.”
I shake my head. “This makes no sense.”
“You said you were bored. You said you wanted a change of scenery. Are you really going to complain? Because if you are, I’m perfectly fine staying here.”
Knowing Gideon, if I say one more word, he’ll do just that, just to spite me.
Stop. That’s not true, and you know it.
No matter how many times I try to argue with myself that he’s treating me unfairly, he’s not.
Sure, he’s controlling, but I know deep down he’s coming from a good place.
He promised my brother he’d protect me, and he’s making good on his word. No matter how much I don’t want to admit it, I am safe with him.
I’m one hundred percent safer than I would be out there on my own, and it’s time I stop pretending otherwise.
Knowing there is nothing more to say, I turn to leave.
“Pack for a few days.”
“Could you tell me where we’re going so I know what to pack?” I ask, realizing I have very few outfits to pick from.
“Take what you’d typically wear through the day. Bring one nice dress.”
I take a deep breath. “I don’t have anything like that, Gideon.”
He doesn’t look up from his desk when he says, “You do. I’ve had options stocked in my closet for you. You’ll find something there.”
“What? You…bought me more clothes?”
He looks up at me, stone-faced. “I did, but we don’t have time to discuss that now. You need to go get packed.” He puts his hands together in a prayer motion. “Please.”
I offer a small smile and do as he’s asked, making my way out of his office with a skip in my step.
He bought me more clothes.
Why?
How long does he anticipate me staying here?
It only takes me a few seconds to climb the stairs up to his room, and when I make it to his closet, I see I’m not alone.
“Mr. Gideon asked me to help you.”
“Um, okay. Do you know where I’m going?”
“I don’t. But if you show me what you want to bring, I’ll fold and pack it.”
“You don’t—” I start to say, but I know she does have to do this. It’s her job, after all, and I wouldn’t want to get her in trouble. So I bite my tongue.
After pointing at a few pieces, items that can transition easily from day to night, I find myself waiting alone.
My hands are fidgety as I wait, and I’m not even sure what I’m waiting for.
Where are you taking me, Gideon?
It’s not long before I hear the telltale signs of feet hitting the wood floors outside the bedroom.
“Are you ready?” I hear him before I see him.
“I am. My suitcase has already been brought down.”
He nods. “Come on, we have to go.”
Gideon is already setting off to the stairwell, and I pick up my pace to follow. Before long, both our feet hit the marble floor of the foyer, and then we’re walking out the front door.
The first thing I see is four heavily tinted black cars lined up. The second car’s door is open.
“That’s ours,” he says, pointing at the car with its door open.
I don’t say a word, but fear flutters in my blood. He has a convoy of cars.
The only reason he would do that is if the threat is real.
I feel sick as I step inside the Escalade, my hands bunching into the material of my cardigan to keep busy.
As soon as the doors close, I let out a breath, but I’m on high alert when the other back door flies open, and Gideon takes a seat beside me.
“Is this all necessary?”
“Yes. I told you I’d keep you safe, and someone out there really wants you dead. Until we know who and why, this is all very necessary.”
“Where are we going?”
“You’ve asked that a million times, and each time I’ve told you, I’m not telling.”
“Why?” I throw out another question, growing annoyed with myself for the constant inquisitions. But it can’t be helped. I’m on unequal footing, and when I feel off balance, I ask a million questions. It’s always been like that.
“It’s a surprise.”
I turn my head toward him. “For what?”
“Because I want to,” he says, eyes never wavering from mine.
“That’s not necessary. I don’t want surprises from you.”
“Too damn bad. I’ve done a lot of fucked-up shit with you. I’ve messed up, and this is my apology.”