Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Even when I don’t want to.
He knew who I was from the start. I can’t help but wonder what else he’s keeping from me. My grandfather’s been locked in the bowels of this place since the day I came here, and Mass never once thought to mention it.
I understand why he didn’t. A part of me knows he probably made the right choice. He’s doing what it takes to protect my grandfather.
I’m extremely sympathetic to that.
But all these revelations are weighing on me.
“Do we miss Mass, little baby girl?” I whisper to Rosie as I rock her before putting her down into her crib.
“Papa,” she says sleepily.
That one word nearly breaks me.
I sit alone in the living room with a glass of wine and the baby monitor. I stare at my daughter fitfully tossing and turning. She’s not crying out, but I can tell she’s having a hard time getting into deep sleep.
Maybe she knows how stressful things are for me right now. She’s always been perceptive.
I want Mass to come home. I want him to explain everything. I need him to apologize. I’m angry and hurt, and I feel like I’m some pawn in a much bigger game, but I still want him. That’s the messed-up part. I need him to make me feel better.
He doesn’t show up.
Eventually, I get desperate. I call down to staff services and ask if they can locate Mass for me. Some random girl I’ve never spoken to before informs me that my husband is currently in an important meeting, but she would gladly pass along a message.
I hang up, feeling stupid.
Only for the phone to start ringing again.
Except it’s not the house phone. I look around, panic hitting my chest, when I realize it’s the couch ringing.
I dig the hidden cell out and raise it up.
“Hello?” I shouldn’t answer. It’s just going to be some mysterious bullshit again. Although the man on the other end was right the last time he called.
“Hey, Allie. It’s good to hear your voice.”
I freeze. I can’t believe what’s happening. “Gabriel?” I whisper, unable to actually accept that it’s my oldest brother on the other end.
“The one and only.” There’s noise in the background. It sounds like something sloshing against a wall. Wind blows through the receiver, and his voice is patchy and distant. “Service is shit right now. We’re on some fancy scrambled satellite, so I can’t talk long. How fast can you pack?”
Adrenaline slams into me. I have to stand and start pacing. “What are you talking about? Where are you right now?”
“I’m nearby. Get Rosie. Grab your things. There’s a beach near the Fortress, just a patch of sand between where you are and where the guests stay. You need to meet me out there in fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen minutes? Are you insane, Gabe? This island is surveilled at all times.”
“We have a window. Trust me, I’m working with people, and we’re going to bring you home. What Cardone did at the wedding was fucking wrong, Allie.”
“Who sent you here? How did you even do this?”
“Just trust me, okay? I swear, Allie, if you leave right now and head to the west side of the island, we’ll bring you home. Everything will be fine.”
I open my mouth to argue. There’s no way Mass would ever let me go. He’d chase me forever if it meant keeping me. Running isn’t really an option.
But this is my brother.
It’s not some random guy sneaking around the Fortress.
This is Gabe.
There are so few people I trust more than I trust myself, and my oldest brother happens to be one of them.
“I don’t know if I can make it. I mean, there are so many people watching—”
“Just get moving. The window’s closing. Western side, halfway down, right on the beach. Cardone and his people are distracted, so you have to move. Do you understand? Get going.”
I try to argue, but the line goes dead.
I stare at the phone. I’m tempted to call that number back.
If he gets caught trying to sneak me out of here, Mass will kill him without hesitation.
But this is my chance at freedom.
“Shit,” I whisper, hurrying into the bedroom. I find a duffel bag in the closet and start shoving clothing into it. “Shit, shit, shit.” I don’t want to do this. No part of me thinks this is a good idea.
There are a thousand reasons to run away.
But none of them seem to matter.
Still, I run into Rosie’s room and grab her diaper bag. There should be enough supplies in there for a few days, but I grab some extra things. She stirs as I make noise, and eventually, I pluck her from the crib. “Shush, baby, I’ve got you. We’re just going for a walk, alright?”
She glares at me blearily.
But she doesn’t start crying. Instead, she curls up against me as I hurry from her room and down to the elevator.