Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 196085 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 980(@200wpm)___ 784(@250wpm)___ 654(@300wpm)
“I know. I’m sorry. I have enough for a plane ticket home, if I can’t get out tonight—”
He cuts me off. “I just read a story on the internet about him. Sexual harassment claims. You fell into the trap, Chastity.”
“I know. You were right.”
“Where are you?”
“At Jack’s apartment.”
“And where is that?”
“15 Central Park West.”
The doorbell rings, and I practically leap out of my skin. My phone is pressed to my ear as I stare at the front entry. “One second, someone’s ringing the doorbell.”
“Is it him? Put him on the phone.”
“It can’t be Jack. He uses the private elevator. He doesn’t need the doorbell even if he uses the front door. It’s probably a delivery. Hold on.”
Security has a list of any deliveries Jack is expecting so if something arrives, they go ahead and let the driver bring it up. If no one is home, they just leave it outside the door.
I turn the knob and open the door. My breath catches in my throat as my eyes meet Jack’s. It’s him, but he’s different somehow. His eyes are darker, his hair a bit longer. Or am I just losing my mind?
“Daddy?” I cringe as I realize I’m still on the phone with my father. “Jack?” I step backwards as he steps toward me.
He’s angry. Why is he angry?
He doesn’t get to be angry. I’m the one who’s angry…
Then, as if in slow motion, his closed fist connects with the side of my jaw and blinding pain explodes inside my head.
I scream his name as I fly to my left and hit the wall. The phone falls from my hand, and so does the bag. My face hits the ground as I lie in a crumpled heap on my belly. Clutching my head in both hands, I turn over, staring up in disbelief. Darkness threatens to engulf me.
“Why are you hurting me?” I groan, watching the dark eyes of the man I trusted with my life as he stands over me and I realize I don’t really know him at all. He looks different somehow…
I'm dizzy, but it’s my heart that’s breaking.
I see Jack pick up my phone and end the call with my dad. Dropping it back on top of the leather bag. He reaches down as I try to scramble backward and grabs my hair, dragging me behind him but I twist and fight and kick until he drops me back to the floor.
He doesn’t say anything as I scream and curse. He pulls out a red bandana and stuffs it in my mouth holding his enormous hand over my nose and mouth while I flail and choke.
A few seconds later, blissful darkness envelops me. I welcome it so that I don’t feel anything anymore.
CHAPTER 21
JACKSON
“How the fuck did someone get through security with fuel?”
“I’m not sure sir. We don’t have footage of whoever it was entering through the front doors.” The head of security, Jeffrey Smith, sweats profusely. He's red and shaking. And I don’t pity the guy. I'm pissed.
My mood isn’t being helped because I can’t reach Chastity. I’ve called and texted but she’s not responding.
“This is un-fucking-acceptable.” I’m standing next to his desk as he’s shown me the footage of Chastity leaving but I still can’t concentrate until I know she’s safe which I won’t know for sure until I talk to her. Why did she leave in the middle of the day? Right before the fire?
My head is spinning already but there’s a lot of question marks making things worse. The sprinkler system quelled the fire before it could get too far but the smoke and fumes will make a majority of the office space unusable for the foreseeable future.
There are firefighters upstairs working and investigating but Jenson and his team are dealing with them.
Jesus Christ, if Chastity doesn’t message or call me back in the next ten seconds, I’m going to lose my mind.
“So, everyone is accounted for, correct?” I ask, looking at my phone then hit the call button again as it starts to ring.
“Yes, Mister Carter.”
I'm scanning the large screens as CCTV footage is played back for me, listening as her phone rings but no answer again.
Looking at the screens for any sort of clue as to what happened with the fire. I don’t know exactly what I'm looking for. But I’ll know when I see it.
And then, there it is.
“Pause that.” I lean closer to the screen. “That’s not me. Fucking looks just like me though.”
Jeffrey looks at me weirdly. “Sir? That is you…sorry but you’re easy to spot.”
He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. The camera still is clear. That is me. To all intents and purposes, he’s right. But, I know it’s not. That gold watch peeks through the shirt cuffs, clear and shining in the picture as whoever this imposer is pulls a worn brown suitcase with him.