Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“I was going to sell you.” She spells it out for me, her tone condescending, betraying how dumb she thinks I am. “Tony was going to help me . . . We would have gotten a pretty penny for you, but you had to mess that up, too.”
Tony. Her ex.
Her horribly abusive ex.
The music gets louder, and suddenly, I’m back there.
On the couch.
His warm breath on my cheek.
His hand on my lap.
The music playing on the stereo in the room.
“He was going to hurt me,” I whisper, remembering everything now. It slams into me, harder than the car did. “You saved me.”
“Saved you?” Erin’s dry laughter pierces the air. “I didn’t do it to save you. I did it because he was mine, and you couldn’t have him.”
The memory of that day plays in my mind.
My sister was screaming . . .
They fought.
Then she pushed him.
He fell down the stairs.
An accident.
She was protecting me. It was the thing I clung to in my worst moments—how she’d been there when I needed her most. It was why I never left her. It was why I kept the loyalty even when she treated me like dirt.
I thought she saved me.
That she loved me.
But now?
Now I know the truth.
After that day, we lived in her car. We left before the cops came and moved from city to city . . . until Erin met Ronald.
“It’s always been you.” She reaches forward and slaps me again. My head flies back. “You have always taken everything from me.”
My cheek stings. I push it down, croaking out, “He was going to rape me.”
“You seduced him, you whore!” She looks downright unhinged.
This is not my sister.
This is . . . a monster.
“Probably like you seduced my Ronnie,” she accuses. “Is that how you got him to give you my money? It was all supposed to be easy. I knew about the account. It was supposed to be in my fucking name. Mine.” She jabs her thumb against her chest.
“I never asked for the money,” I say, knowing she’s beyond logic.
“When Ronnie went to jail, I thought he would give me access to the money, but he still wielded it like a sword. Brad was easy to convince. You know that’s the funny part?” She laughs. “I saw him when I was visiting Ronald. Tony’s old friend Brad. When I found out he was Ronald’s cellmate, I knew what I had to do. I got Brad to handle it all . . .”
“Brad killed Ronald,” I finish.
“Not by his own hands. He got out before, but he made sure it happened. And what was it all for?”
She shakes her head, and I realize there’s something in her hand. I can’t see without the light, but fear pulses through my veins.
“I still didn’t get what I deserved,” she continues, closing the distance between us. “Yet again, you fucking won the prize.”
“It was never about winning, Erin. I never seduced him. I was a child! I never seduced anyone!”
“Oh, keep telling yourself that. I’m sure that’s exactly why you are spreading your legs for his son. Acting like you’re better than me, you worthless bitch.”
My head spins.
It feels like I’m free-falling off a cliff.
“You should have died when Brad hit you,” she tells me, standing right in front of me now. “It would have been so much easier if you had.” She tilts her head, staring down her nose at me. “What do I do with you now? Well, not me. Brad . . .”
She reaches toward me, gently strokes my hair, and makes me a promise.
“I’ll make sure it’s painful.”
49
Payton
* * *
Erin storms out of the room and up the stairs.
Adrenaline rushes through me. I force as much of it out of me in a quick breath. I need to clear my head. I can barely think clearly.
What the hell am I going to do?
Erin killed Tony, and now she’s going to kill me.
It was always her.
My heart hammers in my chest.
Pulse thumps erratically.
I need to get out of here.
Need to find something to use.
I must break free and fight.
A vision of Trent flashes before me. Of the last conversation we shared in his office. How I never told him I loved him.
I can’t die without telling him how I feel.
I need to survive.
For Trent.
For me.
My hands move around, trying to loosen the rope. It’s tight, but it’s not tight enough that I can’t budge my hands a little. I take advantage of the little gap and push harder, even when my skin burns and muscles strain with the effort.
Luckily for me, my hands are tiny because if I keep doing this, I’ll probably be able to shimmy it off.
I hope I have enough time before she comes back.
I rub my wrists back and forth, trying to get the right angle. Almost there, but not quite. Footsteps ring through the air as I work to gain some wiggle room to get my hands free.