AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Thirty-Three
Gray pushes himself up,but when he puts a hand on his thigh for more leverage, his leg buckles, and he groans. I narrow my eyes at him—that is not the leg I stabbed.
He stumbles out of my room and slams the door. The familiar click follows right after, and I sink to the floor. The adrenaline is quickly leaving my body, and my hands begin to shake. Pulling my knees close, I wrap my arms around them and let my forehead drop forward.
What the hell is going on here?
I sit like this until the trembling in my body subsides enough to drag myself on all fours over to the paper bag without my arms or legs giving out. I'm starving, yet the thought of eating causes my stomach to churn as if someone has dared me to eat some type of insect—alive. I have to, though. If it's true that I've been here for over a day and a half, I need food. And water. The fighter in me knows I have to keep my strength up until Nate and George—oh, no, Denielle. In all of this, I completely forgot about her coming to LA.
Shit, shit, shit!
I gave her the address and put her name on the visitor list. She should be able to—another thought backhands me. How did Gray get on the property, let alone in?
My brain pulls me in so many different directions that my tired mind can't keep up. I eye the bag that supposedly contains nourishment again. Please let it be something edible.
Pulling the top apart, I could weep in relief: two plain bagels. I reach for the water that still sits in the middle of the room from...last night? Whenever Gray put it there. Gulping it down, it's like a drop of water over a hot stone. It doesn't satisfy my body's need one bit. Dropping the now empty cup, I take two large bites out of the bagel. Not a good idea. My stomach instantly begins to cramp. I clamp my mouth shut and crawl as fast as I can into the adjacent bathroom, reaching the porcelain bowl just in time for everything to make a reappearance.
Cold sweat covers every inch of my skin, and the full-on body tremors are back. I groan as another wave of nausea crashes down on me, but all that's left is bile.
"Make it stooooop," I mumble into the empty space and lean my cheek against the seat. My inner germaphobe is too exhausted to be grossed out. Gray apparently knew what he was talking about.
When my legs can support my weight, I pull myself up on the rim of the sink and rinse my mouth—what I wouldn't give for a toothbrush right now.
On the second try,I know better. I take small sips of water, pick the dry bread apart, and nibble on it slowly. It takes forever to finish both, but it remains down. Win-win.
Sitting back on the mattress, I prepare myself for a long wait time but am surprised when I hear footsteps outside the door and the lock unlatches.
I'm not completely blind anymore when the outside glare hits me since I've left the little light in the bathroom on. Gray enters the room, followed by Emily. My mother.
I’m still considering that I’m hallucinating.
Both scan the empty bag on the ground, and Gray smirks. Emily is the first to speak. "I see you ate. Good."
Her tone is dismissive. Detached. She acknowledges it but couldn’t care less.
Remaining where I am with my back to the wall, I stare at both of them. They are such an odd pair. Where Gray is all creep, she is put together and impeccably styled. She is still wearing black leggings, but her top is light-blue today. Her blonde hair is curled in precise waves, her subtle but professionally applied makeup making her look younger than her forty-eight years.
I steady my voice. "What do you want with me? I don’t assume you want a happy family reunion."
With some of my strength returning, my attitude also resurfaces. Though, it's different than when I had faced Nate for the first time. With Nate, I somehow felt he wouldn't harm me, but I'm not so sure with these two. Gray probably would enjoy getting revenge for the stab wound and kick to the balls. I draw my shoulders back, forcing my inhales and exhales to remain steady.
I refuse to show them fear.
Gray leans at the wall beside the door as Emily walks closer. She squats down with her elbows on her knees and slants her head, scanning me up and down. She is far enough away that I’d have to leave my spot to reach her—a strategic move on her part.
"You grew up nicely." Her voice is cold, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand.
What kind of statement is that?
"Is that a compliment?" I cock my head in an identical way and mimic her expression.
She huffs out a non-comical laugh. "I see you haven’t lost your attitude." I open my mouth to make a sarcastic remark, but she continues, "Heather and Tristen did a good job. Unfortunately, not good enough. I didn’t plan for you to meet your brother."
What?
My pulse increases, but I remain mute, letting her do the talking.
"All you had to do was turn eighteen. You would’ve never known any of this. I had it all arranged."
