Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“What’s your wireless password?”
He gave it to her, and she typed it into the settings and then pulled up a search engine. She went back and forth, entering the website address from the picture a few numbers at a time. It was a long enough string that she couldn’t remember it in its entirety. “Damn,” she murmured when it told her the site didn’t exist.
“Noelle.”
She looked up, surprised by the grim expression he was wearing. “What is it?”
He rubbed his finger under his bottom lip for a moment. “What if . . . what if that was the website viewers used to watch us? To . . . send gifts . . . to rent us and whatever else was available as part of a sick game we were unknowingly playing?”
She frowned, blinking. She’d just been wondering at Dow’s possible knowledge of Evan’s abduction. But to have direct proof of people being caged and tortured? She shook her head. They had questioned the fact that Dow was a hacker, and maybe he’d come upon something because of those skills, but . . . “If Dow had hacked into the actual game, he would have called the police, whether he saw me or you or anyone. Any decent person would.”
He shook his head. “The date on the notes app is from less than a week before I was abducted.” His eyes speared her, and she blinked, looking away.
“What are you saying?” she asked. But she thought she knew. And it was too horrible to comprehend.
“I went missing from the gym in those photographs, the one listed by name and address in the notes app. The one where I had a physical therapy appointment scheduled for that day and that time. Someone knew I’d be there. Someone set me up to be taken. To be caged.”
Her mind swirled. He was suggesting Dow didn’t just know about his possible abduction but had been involved in it. Had set him up. “Dow would have no reason to do that. Dow didn’t even know who you—”
“The date on the notes app is also the same day your father had an appointment at his shop,” Evan said softly.
She gave a jolt as the further implication of what he was saying hit her. “No. No way. Are you blaming my father for this?” she asked, her voice incredulous with the shock she felt zipping down her limbs. “You think my father had his hacker friend break into this site and set you up to be part of this sick, nasty game as what? As what, Evan? Revenge against your father?”
“What else makes sense?” His voice was calm but wary. He was looking at her like he knew his suggestion was likely to make her explode in anger. And yet she also saw the resolve in his eyes. What he was saying made sense to him. But it didn’t to her. No.
“Anything else makes sense,” she gritted, attempting desperately to keep her cool even while her blood was boiling.
He let out a whoosh of breath, dragging his hand through his hair. She caught sight of the white scars on his knuckle, and they served to cool her ire. The moment he’d caused the terrible injury that had resulted in those scars flashed in her mind . . . the pure grit it had taken to keep going in the face of excruciating pain. For a greater purpose. As a punishment he didn’t deserve. For her.
“Listen,” he said. “He might have had second thoughts. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe that’s why he sold the ring and gave the money to Dow to try to . . . I don’t know, fix it somehow. But Dow didn’t fix it. Instead, maybe he wasn’t robbed but killed by whoever’s site he hacked.”
She shook her head. “That’s all too wild. It’s speculation. And it doesn’t even make sense. My father would never do that. He wouldn’t.” She turned away, hugging herself.
“Are you sure?” Evan asked, coming up behind her and turning her back toward him. “My father ruined his life, Noelle. You even said it yourself. What better way to get back at him than to have his son murdered by monsters?”
“But your father wouldn’t even know,” she said, her voice weak. “You’d just go missing, and he’d wonder where you were.” She tipped her chin, looking into his eyes, searching them, something dark slithering through her mind. He closed his eyes briefly, looking pained as though he’d heard the hiss of that slimy thing. “Unless your father . . .” Her voice was a mere whisper now.
“Unless my father is one of the men who watched,” Evan said, his voice breaking on the last word. He cleared his throat, though, and she could see he was gathering himself. “Unless the photo of that website was taken at my home,” he went on, his voice stronger now. “That looks like the color of the couch we used to have in our basement theater room. That camel-colored leather . . . it was unique.”