Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“Who’s in there?”
He doesn’t answer, instead, he gestures to the man who gives me a little nudge. I climb into the car before he can push me in because he will. There, in the seat facing mine, sits a man. He looks to be in his late forties. He watches me, his face impassive, unreadable, but also strangely familiar.
“Ethan?” I turn to climb out, but Ethan forces me back in as he enters.
“Chandler,” he says to the man as the door closes.
The man, Chandler, simply nods in greeting, never once taking his eyes off me. And his eyes, I know them. I see a gentler, paler reflection of them every time I look in a mirror.
“So this is my sister’s long lost Ophelia.” He draws my name out, rolling it around in his mouth. Testing it. Not liking it. He takes a deep breath in, cocks his head.
“Ethan. What the hell is going on?” I ask, not taking my eyes off the stranger either.
“I told you I’d introduce you to your family, didn’t I? This is Chandler Carlisle-Bent. Your uncle.”
My what?
I feel the blood drain from my face. Chandler’s lips curve upward into a bored half-smile that doesn’t go near his eyes. He shifts his attention to picking at a cuticle
“Ethan. What is this?”
“Big day, I hear,” Chandler says lazily as the car pulls away from the curb. Something in me snaps, and I know I need to get out of there. Away from him. Away from both of them.
I lunge over Ethan’s lap, grasp the door handle to open the door. Ethan grabs hold of me, fingers digging into already bruised flesh.
“I thought you said you were going to behave,” he mutters close to my ear. “Hold her.”
Chandler’s hands close over my arms and he draws me backward as Ethan reaches into his pocket and casually takes out one of those syringes.
“Let me go. Let me out!”
The door is locked. Of course it is. I glance up as the divider between the front and back seats goes up. Not that it matters. Not that the driver would help me. He barely glances into the rear-view mirror.
“I warned you, Phee,” Ethan says, gesturing to Chandler over my head.
I glance at Chandler. His expression is unreadable, hard but I know one thing for sure. They don’t like each other. Don’t trust each other. I wonder what brought them together. What they each have to gain out of this strange joining of forces.
My head is spinning. All this is new information and I can’t make heads or tails of it. I don’t know what is true, what is a lie. I struggle against Chandler’s grip as Ethan looms with that syringe.
“I swear, it’s almost like you don’t hear me at all,” Ethan says.
“Please, Ethan!" He draws nearer, a drop of cool liquid dropping onto my neck.
“Time has run out for you and for me, Phee. You forgot who we are. Who my father is. Who I am. You are alone. You are completely alone. Silas fucked you, then he fucked you over and left. Your father, if he is that at all, is a lying piece of shit. Hell, maybe all fathers are pieces of shit. Regardless, it’s high time for me to get what I’m due for a change, don’t you think?”
“Please!” But before I can say more, I feel the prick of the needle, the sting of whatever it is in the barrel being injected into me. The almost immediate feeling of weight and weightlessness at once. Of limbs growing heavy. Of an emptying of my mind.
I open my mouth to say something. I’m not sure what. But as I’m righted and flop onto Ethan’s shoulder, I see Chandler’s face, watch his eyes grow huge, hear Ethan curse just before something slams into us hard and in an almost surreal way, the car veers off the road, the screech of brakes and the sickening sound of metal crunching against metal send shockwaves through me. I’d scream if I could, but I can’t get my voice to work, can barely keep my eyes open. I’m thrown across the seat then back as the car spins out of control. I’m dazed, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. When the sedan slams against a pole and finally comes to a stop, my head crashes against the window and I’m stunned, dizzy, spots dancing before my eyes.
The car horn blares, both driver and passenger airbags inflated. I blink, look over at Chandler who groans, look at Ethan, who is still.
Something warm slides down my temple and I reach up to touch it. My fingers come away bloody. Time slows down. Someone throws the door open, and I turn my head to see, ringing in my ears making it impossible to hear, but there, leaning his head in, is Silas.