Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“Drink tea.”
I can do this. I like tea.
After moving to the red chair, I wrap my hand around the teacup. It can’t be more than a hundred milliliters and there’s no steam rising from the surface. I bring it to my nose. It smells pungent. Maybe I don’t like tea after all.
“Drink.” From the worktop, he glances over his shoulder with a warm smile and easy nod. He’s quite commanding with his nods.
What if he’s poisoning me? Does it matter? No.
“Oh … wow.” I try to suppress my gag reflex, which is odd because I’ve never had much of one until this tea coated my throat. He’s making me drink his diarrhea. That’s the only explanation for what’s in the cup. “What is this?”
“Herbs. Mushrooms.”
The soft hum of a motor sounds, followed by deeper grinding sounds. Straining my neck, I catch a glimpse of him shoving carrots into a juicer. After a minute or so, he turns it off and glances back over his shoulder.
“Finish tea?”
My nose scrunches. “Not yet.”
“Finish.”
I imagined bacon and eggs, maybe fresh squeezed orange juice, tea with sugar. But this? This is torture. My stomach will not approve of this liquid waste. However, for reasons I can’t understand, I finish the tea with one big gulp.
Don’t gag!
“Good.” He hands me a tall glass of carrot juice.
I’ve never had plain carrot juice, but anything—an-y-thing—is better than that tea.
“Slowly.”
I cease my gulping.
“Chew it.”
I frown. What does that mean? Chew the juice?
Yimin takes a sip of his drink and swishes it a bit then swallows. “Chewing. Assimilating. Digestion starts in your mouth.”
“Are you a doctor?”
He shakes his head. I chew my juice.
“What do you do?” I ask.
“I live.”
“I live” is not an answer, until I think about it. Maybe it’s the perfect answer.
“I guess it’s better than the alternative.” I shrug.
Yimin eyes me, and he then nods slowly. “Mr. Moore should not have let you stay with Mr. Reed. He carries a negative energy. It’s not good for you.”
I laugh. Negative energy from Theodore Reed? Why ever would anyone think that? “No need to worry about it. I don’t think his negative energy will kill me.”
It’s impossible to escape Yimin’s gaze. His look makes me feel like he knows more about me than I do. Is Theo’s negative energy going to kill me? Or just his bare hands wrapped around my neck?
“Do you think he’s dangerous?”
Yimin nods.
Well, shit! I didn’t expect that. In spite of the Nellie and Harold incident, I trusted Nolan to not put me in danger. Clearly my circumstance in life has affected my judgment and all instinct for self-preservation.
“Do you know why he’s dangerous?”
“He doesn’t value life.”
I perk an eyebrow. “His own or anyone’s?”
Yimin nods. I assume that means all of the above.
“Why do you say that?”
“A feeling.”
After a few seconds of attempting to get my own “feeling” about Yimin’s intuition, I narrow my eyes and lean forward. “How well do you know Nolan? Have you met his parents?”
“I know them very well. Nolan is special. He has a heightened awareness.”
“Yes. He told me. Do you believe it?”
Yimin slides my carrot juice closer to me. I take the hint and chew another swig.
“I do,” he replies.
My conscience shakes off the uneasy feeling and the whole weird vibe that lingers around us. “Tell me about his parents.”
“The Moores have been through a lot.”
“You don’t say.” I bite my lips together. That thought wasn’t meant for actual words.
Yimin’s brow draws tight, slaying the curiosity beast inside of me. I stand. I’ve overstepped a boundary, and now I feel uncomfortable.
“Thank you for the tea and juice.” Really just the juice. “I have a few jobs to do.”
“Again, tomorrow.”
“Oh, well …” My objection is weak because I don’t have any other plans for tomorrow or any day after that.
“Here.” He moves past me to the kitchen and retrieves a mason jar from the cupboard, and then he pours the rest of the carrot juice into it. “Drink today.”
“All of it?” My eyes widen a fraction at the filled liter jar.
“Yes.”
“Uh … okay, thank you.” I take the juice. Changing my diet is on my life-changing to-do list. I didn’t see it starting with a juice cleanse—especially since I’m so hungry.
“Tomorrow.” Yimin calls as a dusting of sand from the wooden walkway clings to my feet while I make my way to the beach.
“Tomorrow.”
*
A few beachgoers in bikinis and floppy hats have staked their claim with umbrellas in the sand as the sun spreads along the Atlantic. Cupping a hand over my eyes, I squint to see what’s moving along the water’s surface maybe twenty meters from the waves breaking into fizzing foam along the uneven shoreline.
At first I think it’s a dolphin or shark, but as the figure nears the shallow waters, it morphs into a human figure, like I’m witnessing a modern-day evolution.