Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“When does life get easier?” I lean my head back and look out the window as we pass the stores and cute restaurants on Ventura Boulevard.
“I have ten years on you and I’m still waiting.” She reaches over, grabs my hand, and squeezes.
“At least he was honest,” I say out loud, forgetting that Cindy is not inside my head. But she must get it because she nods and turns down her crappy music.
“Look, he does have a point. And you know I hate to agree with him. You’re young and talented. What are you gonna do? Be a waitress and hope Axel doesn’t tire of you?”
I look at her, and when she says it like that it sounds right and just. But it’s not.
“Why not? Is it so terrible that I want to stay and maybe start teaching some dance classes?”
We pull into the deserted parking and she turns toward me. “No, as long as you’re doing it for you, not for Axel.”
“I love him,” I croak and grab my bag, preparing to get out. “It has everything to do with him. If I give up on Axel, I give up on me.”
She nods and looks around the empty parking lot. “I’ll pick you up when you’re done.” She’s trying to sound happy, but her eyes fill with tears. “Great. Now I’m getting ready to cry.” She looks up at the top of her car.
“Sorry.” I get out. I can’t say more. Otherwise, I’m gonna lose it and ruin what’s left of Cindy’s coffee date. After stepping up on the curb, I hold open the diner’s door as a couple walks out.
Charlie looks up from the register. “Antoinette.” She glances around as if we’re being watched. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh God, Charlie. I don’t even know. I guess I needed to get out of the compound, and I thought you might need help.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m closing early again,” she mumbles and smiles at what looks like the last table of four. They hand her their check. Smiling, she rings them up. “Thank you.”
I watch the customers leave, swinging back to her worried face. “What’s going on?” I hiss, planting the sunglasses on top of my head.
“What did Axel tell you?” she whispers and pulls me toward the speakers.
“Just that creepy guy might be Eve’s brother.” I take a deep breath and exhale, suddenly feeling sick. I shouldn’t have left. I’m not helping. If anything, I’m upsetting Charlie.
“Exactly. David is freaking out. Like I haven’t seen him like this in years.” Her nails dig into my arm, but I stay quiet and try to be supportive.
“I sent Victor and Carl home already.” She tries to smile, but it’s tight.
“Okay. I’ll put the closed sign on.” I shiver. This is bad. But for fuck’s sake, David’s not gonna let anything happen to Charlie, so maybe I’m being paranoid.
“Have you talked to Ev—” She puts her finger to her mouth. And now I start looking around.
“So, since it’s slow, I’m closing early.” We start to walk together to the back. Charlie has a bag of money and credit card slips to put in her safe. As we step around the corner, I see movement. It happens so fast that all I can do is gasp; then cold sweaty hands cover my mouth and pull me in tight as his breath makes me want to retch.
“Hello, my little ballerina. Who’s your friend?” His hands are filthy and I instantly taste salty, bitter sweat and God only knows what. He partially covers my nose and every time I inhale, the taste gets stronger.
Holy fuck.
Benny. He’s here and Charlie and I are alone. My pulse is racing so fast I can’t think, can’t breathe. This is my fault. He wants me. He came for me. This is why Axel said to stay home. What was I thinking? Split seconds that feel like minutes pass as I try to think and calm my rapid breathing.
Charlie stands frozen. Her eyes go wide as I feel the sharp edge of a cool knife at my throat.
“Just relax.” She holds up her hands as I hear a slight wheezing coming from his breath.
“I’m Charlie. I know your sister. Why don’t we just relax,” she repeats.
He pulls me tight against him and I can feel the erection through his pants. Filled with anger, I close my eyes at the sting of tears. I’m not doing this. My mom was a victim, not me.
He slowly moves us backward. My feet are numb, but maybe I’m in shock because I’m trying to figure out what to do when I get away from him. I can easily jerk away, but what if he lunges and stabs me?
“Ah, my sister.” He keeps moving us back toward the kitchen. I’ll make my move at the back door. That’s probably the best place.