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)
“If all the little raindrops were lemon drops and lollipops,” he sang. Behind him he heard her doing something, but he couldn’t tell what over the sound of his own voice. But she’d started moving, he knew that. “Oh, if all the little raindrops were lemon drops and lollipops. Oh, what a rain that would be.” He tapped his foot to the tune to provide her more cover. “Standing outside with my mouth open wide, singing la la la la, la la la, la la la, la la la, la la la la, la la la, la la la, la.”
Finally, after several stanzas, he sensed her lack of movement, and his voice quieted. “Decent?” he asked, and when he got no answer, he turned slowly. She was curled up on the floor of her cage, eyes closed. He released a sigh, lying down in his own crate and staring at her as a tear rolled slowly down her face. His chest tightened, and he turned his hand, sliding it through the bars and reaching for her. At the sound, her eyes came open, and she stared at his open palm. For a moment he was sure she wouldn’t reach back. Why should she? She hated him. But then she brought her hand from beneath her head and fit it between the bars. They weren’t close enough to hold hands comfortably but close enough that he could wrap his index and middle fingers around hers, forming a link. She tightened her grip, joining him in the silent statement he’d made by offering his hand: We need each other now. Nothing else matters.
Noelle sighed, closing her eyes, her tears ceasing. The room went dark as the lights switched off. The vision of their linked fingers still burned in his mind. She’d saved those fingers of his; he’d never forget that. But she’d paid dearly for it.
The lights came on what seemed like mere moments later, but he knew it’d been longer than that. His fingers were still linked with Noelle’s, but his muscles ached from being held in the same position over time. And he’d dreamed, even if he could only remember fragments and pieces. Nothing he recalled made sense, his brain obviously in anxiety-ridden free fall, latching on to anything and everything in a desperate attempt to retain some sanity.
Or at least, that’s what it felt like to Evan.
Noelle groaned softly, her fingers slipping free of his as she rolled onto her back, stretching and opening her eyes. Her expression barely changed, but he swore he could see the moment reality set in, even though his only view was of her profile. It was like he’d witnessed a slap to her soul, some form of deflating that he sensed as much as saw. Would there be a “morning” they’d wake here when it wouldn’t be a traumatic shock? And should he wish for that? He didn’t think so.
She ran her fingers through her hair, sitting up slowly. “So that’s it then,” she said after a moment. Her voice was bland, listless.
He frowned, running his hand through his own hair. “What?”
“The motive. The one we were trying to figure out. We’re being rented out to sickos and perverts. It’s as simple as that.”
He rolled the words over in his mind. She was right. As far as motives went, it was a simple one. They’d been trafficked. And now they were being bought and sold. How much? he wondered. What was their going rate?
“Did he hurt you?” he asked softly.
He felt suddenly zapped of any and all energy, and maybe she did, too, because she lay down again, facing him, and he lay down as well so they were looking at each other through their bars.
“Of course he hurt me.”
He closed his eyes, blew out a breath. I’m a virgin. “I mean—”
“Was it more than sex? No.”
He felt a smidgeon of relief, not much, but something. She’d been raped, but she hadn’t been brutalized. In a turbulent sea of horrible, it was a small life raft. Something to hold on to. Of course, that experience might have been an outlier. Who knew what was in store for them? Who knew what type of monster might rent one of them next?
He was here too. And he wondered if they were up on some dark marketplace. The very thought made him want to fall willingly into the abyss of madness.
“The items on that counter, the ones behind the ice pick?” she said.
“Yes?” He asked the word hesitantly. He almost didn’t want to know.
“They’re power tools. Smaller ones.”
Power tools. An ice pick. Fear coagulated in his throat. He wouldn’t think about them. He wouldn’t.
He couldn’t help it, though.
Come with me or we’ll take his fingers.
He knew very well what the tools were for.
They turned in unison when they heard the dumbwaiters on the wall slide open, both crawling toward their deliveries.