Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Where are we going?” I hear myself ask. I know he won’t answer.
He just tilts his head toward the stairs, and I begin climbing and once I’m on the second-floor landing, I walk down the dark corridor toward the last door, the only door that is ajar, a dim lamp burning inside. I stop just outside of it, every hair on my body standing on end, every instinct on full alert, in panic mode. I’m not sure how I’m keeping it together, actually. Like a duck, on the surface I may look calm but just beneath, I’m paddling like crazy to stay afloat.
“In,” he says.
I look over my shoulder at him. The man is a giant. A solid beast I know I can’t outrun let alone get past. So, I enter the room and before I can even turn around, he’s closed the door and I hear a lock engaging.
A lock on the outside. Of course.
I turn to my surroundings again, a small, sparse room. It’s not a basement though, right? That’s something? There’s carpet here. If he was going to kill me, he wouldn’t do it where there’s a carpet.
It’s a corner room with three windows. Decorative drapes stand open on each. I glance out of one window and regret it instantly when I see the garden’s atmospheric lighting, the vast area beyond dense with trees. That stone wall.
My purse slips from my hand, and I slide my jacket off with it. I’m freezing and sweating at once. I turn my back to the outside and grip the windowsill, squeezing my eyes shut and telling myself to breathe. I wrap my arms around myself and force my eyes open, make myself take it all in, to figure out an exit. An out. Some strategy for when he comes for me. Because he will come, Ezekiel St. James. He’ll want to know how I found out. Where I got my information. If anyone else knows.
And then what? What will he do? Let me walk away? I don’t think so.
Wren.
Does he know about Wren?
Would he hurt her?
Before I can go into a full blow panic, I make my leaden legs move, taking in the sparse furnishings. An armchair. An ottoman. A table and a chair against the wall. That single lamp on top of it. It has a glass base.
I go to it, pick it up. Hold it in two hands. I’d prefer a heavier base, something I can get my hands around and swing. But this, the glass, it’s something. I set it down for now and head to the door that ends up leading to an empty closet. Another one opens into a bathroom. I switch on the light. Only one bulb over the vanity works but it’s enough to show off the marble in the small room, the shower, no bathtub in here. A lone pedestal sink and no cabinets to search. There’s an empty towel rack and an old-fashioned looking toilet, one of those with the bowl high up and a long chain to flush.
I switch on the tap and it hiccups before water spurts out, then begins to pour ice cold. I guess no one has used this bathroom in a while. I cup my hands and drink some then switch it off, wipe my hands on my sweats since there’s no towel. My hair is drying. It’s no longer stuck to my head. There’s no cleaning up the smeared eyeliner. I look like I’ve been through it, and it hasn’t even begun yet.
I walk back to the outer room and try the door. Still locked, as expected. Still silent beyond it, too. I look back at the lamp. It’s my only option. Switching the bathroom light back on so I’m not left in complete darkness, I unplug it, carry it into the bathroom. I close the door behind me and, without overthinking it, I hit the base against the sink hard enough to crack it. The glass is strong, that’s good. I do it again, careful not to shatter it, cringing at the sound, hoping if the driver or St. James are in the hallway, they don’t hear it.
This time, the glass breaks into multiple large shards. I bend to pick up the best one, test the edge. Like a knife. Good.
I walk back out into the bedroom carefully carrying the lamp. I’d rather leave it off but it’s too dark and I can’t see anything without it, so I plug it back in, turning the part of the base that’s not completely destroyed toward the room for when he comes for me.
My purse and coat are on the floor. I dig out some tissues from inside my bag and wrap them around one side of the glass, so I don’t cut myself when I cut him. I guess he had someone look through my stuff and take my cell phone while I was working.