Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Okay, hold on.”
Celia gives Nic a kiss and waves goodbye to me as we rush out the front door and into the waiting car. Nic slides into the back seat after me and flips open his laptop. The car takes off while Nic pulls up the map and pings my phone.
“Are you hurt?” I don’t really want to know because if she says yes, I’ll drive myself insane until I get there, but I need to keep her talking. Plus, I need to know if she is seriously injured, whether I want to know or not.
“No… I don’t think so.” Her voice trembles a little less now.
“That’s good.”
A red icon starts blinking on the map. Finally.
“There she is,” Nic mumbles before telling the driver where to go.
“We’re about forty-five minutes away.”
“Forty-five,” she repeats. “I don’t know if someone else is here. What if someone finds me before you do?”
“Delilah, listen. Find someplace to hide. And if you have a weapon, bring that too. No matter what happens, know I am on my way, and everything will be okay. I promise.”
“If I hide, I can’t stay on the phone. The signal is bad. The only place I could call is at the top of the staircase.”
“You have to hide. Just leave the phone where you are and go hide somewhere. Don’t come out until you hear me.”
“Okay… I-I’ll go hide.”
“I’ll be there soon.”
I can hear her putting down the phone, followed by the fading of her footsteps.
“You are more attached than I thought,” my brother points out after a moment of silence. “I hope that doesn’t come to bite you in the ass later on.”
I scoff. “You and me, both.”
6
DELILAH
Where is Lucas, and what’s taking him so long?
I don’t even know how long it’s been. He said he’d be here in forty-five minutes, but I left my phone out in the hall like he told me to. I have no way of knowing what time it is, but it feels like hours have passed.
It doesn’t help that it’s so dark in here. It’s like a cave—the only light leaking in through the tiny gap under the closet door. The darkness is nice. Almost comforting.
I’ve been straining my ears, listening for any sounds coming from the rest of the house. It’s as quiet as a graveyard at midnight.
A tiny giggle of nervous energy bubbles up from my chest, and I press my mouth against my knee. A graveyard? Like the one Nathaniel will be in because I killed him.
My fingers are still a little stiff and sore from how tightly I was gripping the bookend when I hit him. It wasn’t until I dropped it on the floor that I even knew I grabbed it from the shelf when he came in.
And then I… what? I blacked out. Snapped. There was nothing to hold me back. Nothing to tell me I shouldn’t kill him. And the proof of that was—is—the dead man on the floor.
I remember staring down at the bookend, confused. Why was it covered in blood? There’s a hair on it, too, stuck in clumps. But why?
It’s his hair.
I hit him in the head with it.
I did this.
Blood dripped from the wound and rolled down the side of his face, soaking into his shirt. The dripping held my attention the longest, and suddenly, everything started to make sense.
Every droplet shone like rubies before plinking onto the floor. There was an entire puddle by the time my phone buzzed, thanks to Lucas’s call. The thought drags me back to the present.
Why isn’t he here yet? What if something bad happens, and he can’t make it? What if there’s an accident and nobody else in the world knows where I am? I could die in this closet, breathing in mothballs.
Or I could die outside the closet when somebody shows up and drags me out and does the same thing to me that I did to Nathaniel. Only I doubt they would make it quick. If anyone finds out what I did before Lucas arrives, I’m as good as dead. What’s taking Lucas so long? I need him. He’s the only person who can help me now. The only person who’d want to.
I killed a man. He’s lying down the hall not far away from where I’m hiding, in front of the vanity and that disgusting outfit he thought I would wear. The thought scares me—and thrills me. Something roars inside my head, something grim and satisfied.
I saved myself.
I doomed myself.
Icy realization skitters its way down my spine. I’m nobody. I’m not going to get away with killing a man like Nathaniel. My chest is too tight, my heart’s racing much too fast, and I think I’m going to faint if this doesn’t stop.
I’m a murderer. Nobody’s going to care that I only did it to protect myself. They’ll all say I had it coming or something like that. It’s how people in this world think. I’m a nobody who murdered a powerful man when I should’ve given him what he wanted. That’s how they’ll see it.