Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
I stared at him. “I can’t go with you watching.”
He narrowed his eyes. “You have five minutes.”
He pulled the door, leaving it partially open. I heard him stomp away, and I quickly used the toilet. I scanned the room for a weapon, but I found nothing. Not even toilet paper or a towel rod. As I stood, the hoodie I was wearing slid back into place over my legs, and I felt the small item in the pocket bump my thigh.
It hit me. Lynn’s alert watch. As quietly as possible, I pulled it from my pocket and pushed the buttons, not recalling which one did what. But I was sure the side button was the key. I pressed it repeatedly.
I had no idea if it was working. I needed to figure it out, but I heard Calvin or Alan or whatever the fuck his name was coming back, so I slid it into the folds of the sleeve on the hoodie, determined to try.
The door opened fast, slamming against the wall.
“What the fuck are you up to?”
“Waiting,” I replied. “You told me to wait.”
He frowned, trying to determine whether he had indeed told me to wait.
“Good,” he huffed. He grabbed my arm again, dragging me back to the room. He pushed me into the seat, yanking one arm behind me and tying it to the chair.
“Please, Calvin,” I pleaded, making my voice soft. “Not so tight. It hurts.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? Like you won’t try to escape?” he roared.
“I won’t. I don’t know where I am. It’s so quiet, it’s like we’re in the forest.”
“We are.”
“So where would I go? It’s not like I can call someone to help me.”
He held up his phone, as if to torment me. “Nope. Your phone is useless to you where it is. I have service. You, bitch, have nothing.” Then he slid it back into his pocket.
Before he could grab my other arm, I took a deep breath for courage and leaned into him, the simple act of touching him making me want to vomit.
“I’m so thirsty, Calvin. Please could I have some water?”
He froze, and I forced myself to relax into him. He smelled of unwashed skin and unclean clothing. I nestled closer. “It’s so cold.”
He stood so abruptly, I almost fell. He spun around and headed out the door. I grappled with the roll of the sleeve, praying I didn’t drop the device, then transferred it to the hand that was already tied up. I pressed the side button again. I pressed every button I could feel under my fingers. Then I waited. He came back into the room, handing me an old cup that had seen better days. I took it, trying to look grateful. I pretended to sip at the water, purposely taking my time. As I expected, he grew impatient and grabbed the cup away. “Enough.”
He bent over me once again, surrounding me in his putrid stench. I said nothing but started pressing the button on the side of the device again, praying it worked. Praying Evan would see it. Praying they knew I was missing by now.
Except my hand went numb, and the alert device slipped from my fingers, falling to the floor. I shut my eyes, knowing what was about to happen.
“What the fuck?” Calvin growled, standing. “What the hell is this?” He held up the small device.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? You don’t know?” he screamed in my face. “Where were you hiding it?”
“I-I forgot. It was in my pocket—it must have slipped out. It’s a lifeline button for my aunt. It’s harmless.”
He stared at it then me. “What have you done, bitch?”
“Nothing,” I lied. “It’s useless.”
He bent down, his unpleasant breath hitting my face. “It is now.” He dropped it on the carpet, grinding it under his heel. I watched, feeling my one shred of hope fade. I had no idea if it had worked. If I was as alone as I felt, stuck here with a madman. But I refused to let him see me cower.
He leaned down, his face level with mine. “Tell me what you did.”
I snapped. “I called the cavalry,” I sneered at him, then in a move I didn’t plan and he didn’t expect, I lifted my leg and kneed him in the crotch. He was bent at the right angle, and I was angry enough to make the kick count. He shouted, falling over, rolling on the dirty carpet. I jumped to my feet, still attached to the chair, and tried to run. He grabbed my leg, and I went down, my shoulder absorbing the brunt of the impact. He stood over me, screaming, yelling, hurling obscenities, clutching his balls.
“I hope it hurts, you motherfucker!” I screamed back.
The last thing I saw was his foot as it flew toward my face. I turned away, feeling the force of his boot glance off my head.