Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76812 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
"What you did today goes a long way in making up for the disgrace you've caused our family," he says, but I know better than to think I'll come out of any of this unscathed. "We'll discuss Xan when I get back. I have funeral arrangements to make."
"Yes, sir," I say, my voice clear because he hates when people mutter.
"Is that all your brother gets?" he says, stepping toward me.
I stand my ground because I know it's what he wants. It makes him both proud and angry that I'm brave enough to stand up to him. Cowering would be much worse unless this is one of those times that's exactly what he wants.
"My only heir is gone," he says, his lip curling, that vein twitching uncontrollably. "That leaves you to provide me with another one."
He leaves out of the front door, the same two men who came with him last night accompanying him out of the house.
I'm shaking, terrified, as I stand speechless in the middle of the living room.
"Take your ass to your fucking room," the man Nathan called Mr. Banks earlier snaps. "I'm tired of fucking looking at you."
I scurry away because the last thing I am is stupid.
I eye the window as I close the bedroom door and press my back to it, but I know better than to open the curtain again. It'll only leave me feeling hopeless. There's no way Beck stuck around after I asked him to leave.
He's probably eight inches deep in someone else already, glad to be done with me and all the fucking issues that come along with me.
I flip off the light, the shadows cast under the door the only thing that will forewarn me if someone is getting close to my room.
I could easily curl up in the closet, but Nathan always has the door removed, so it provides no false protection.
There are no forms of entertainment in the room. If I'm in here, I'm meant to be thinking about the countless mistakes I've made in my life, not watching television or reading a book. I'd never be permitted any form of media that would allow me to connect with the outside world.
I climb on the bed, pulling the blankets up to my nose, an old habit from when I used to think the monsters couldn't reach me if I did so. Movement in the other room keeps me on high alert, but neither man speaks nor makes a move toward the door. They're probably in there on their phones, passing the time until they're given permission to hurt me.
Time ticks by, the sun setting less than an hour after Nathan left.
My eyes grow heavy but I fight the urge to go to sleep.
I jostle, reaching up to touch my cheek, and I don't have to waste a second trying to figure out two things, I fell asleep and someone just touched my face with a bloody hand.
I scream when I see the scarred man standing over my bed even though I know it's just one more thing I'll get in trouble for.
"Get up," he snaps, clicking on the bedside lamp.
His hands are covered in blood, leaving red stains behind on everything he touches.
I lift the blanket to my cheek and wipe the wetness away, gagging when I pull it back to the red there.
"You have to fucking leave," he snaps. "He's expected back any time."
I stay on the bed, fear keeping me locked in place. I've been toyed with all my life. This wouldn't be the first time Nathan tested me to see if I would leave if given the chance.
"Get out of the fucking bed!" he roars, ripping the blanket from my hands and pulling me from the mattress.
Bile soars up my throat, not knowing whose blood is all over his hands as he pushes against my back.
On unsteady feet, I leave the bedroom, tears beginning to roll down my cheeks when I see the wide-open, lifeless eyes of the other man who drove us here from the courthouse. His throat is slit, a pool of thick blood staining his clothes.
I look back over my shoulder to see Mr. Banks walking toward me, and only now do I see the blood-stained knife in his hand.
I scream again, rushing for the front door. No sooner do I get outside and on the front stoop does someone else grab me. I'm confused and more than a little terrified despite the warmth of the blanket that's wrapped around my body.
I can't even speak, much less ask questions, as I'm urged into a dark SUV and driven away from the house.
Chapter 35
Newton
I thought waiting down the street for her to show signs of distress in order for us to move into the house was hard, but it has nothing on seeing her step out on the front porch with blood on her face.