Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Gosh, I’m so confused.
Knowing I can’t give Enzo the wrong impression and make him think I’m okay with everything, I pull back, and without a word, I leave his bedroom.
Once I shut my door behind me, I stare at the key in the lock, but remembering Enzo said he’d break it down, I let out a sigh, leaving it unlocked.
I pick up my phone from where it’s lying on my bed and check the time. It’s already four am.
I climb beneath the covers, and lying down, I hug my pillow tight.
Everything that’s happened since I met Enzo runs through my mind, and the more I think about it all, the less sense it makes.
Since the rape, I’ve been invisible. Until him. It feels like he sees into the deepest parts of me, but I don’t understand why a man like Enzo has taken an interest in me.
I always thought I was raped because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.
But JJ threatened my mom and aunt, which has to mean he knew who I was. Over the years, the other three came to the gas station to taunt me.
Is there something about me that grabs the attention of bad men?
I lie in bed for an hour, unable to make sense of anything. I don’t know how to handle the situation. When I tried to leave, Enzo carried me back into the house, so trying again would be pointless.
He’s made it very clear he won’t let me go.
At least he hasn’t hurt me.
Yet.
This is not how the fantasy was supposed to go.
Just after six, my phone beeps with an incoming message. When I check the screen, I see it’s from Mom. I avoided her call last Sunday because I was still rattled by the robbery, and I didn’t want to cause her any worry. Then my entire life changed, and I forgot to get back to her.
Opening the message, I read it.
Mom: We’re worried about you, kiddo. Give me a call so I can hear your voice.
I sit up and fold my legs beneath me while clearing my throat before I press dial on her number.
“Jenna? Jesus, you have no idea how worried we’ve been. Your aunt had to stop me from driving to Aurora. Are you okay?”
I clear my throat again, and ducking my head, I softly say, “I’m fine, Mom. I’ve just been busy.”
“I’m going to slap that old geezer upside the head! He’s making you work too hard for the peanuts he pays you. Seriously, kiddo. Pack up and come to us. I really don’t get why you’re staying up there.”
“Money’s tight,” I give her the same excuse as always.
“I’ve worked some overtime and made extra so I can buy you a bus ticket.”
“Put it away for a rainy day. I’m fine where I am and can’t take time off.”
We’ve had this exact conversation so many times before.
Mom lets out a sigh. “Fine. Besides work, how are you?”
“I’m okay, Mom. Everything is the same as always,” I lie through my teeth. “How are you and Aunt Sherrie?”
“We’re doing okay as well. Wish we could stop working altogether, but with things costing an arm and a leg, there’s no chance of that happening.”
My eyes dart to the side of the bed, and I think of the three thousand dollars I have hidden there.
Shoot. If I send the money to Mom, she’ll ask why I didn’t use it to leave Aurora.
“But don’t worry about us,” Mom adds.
“Things will get better,” I say. “I’m looking for a new job.”
“Yeah? What kind of job?”
Not knowing what to answer, I reply, “Housekeeping. I hear it pays more than what I make now.”
“I hope you get it, kiddo.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I clear my throat again. “I have to go…ahh, I’m tired after the shift at the gas station.”
“Okay. We’ll talk on Sunday. Get some sleep. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too,” I whisper before hanging up.
I let out a heavy sigh. I hate lying to Mom, but how do I even begin to explain the past two weeks to her?
I look at my bedroom door, and my thoughts jump to Enzo.
I wonder if he’s okay?
I check the time and realize he might need to take painkillers again.
Unable to stop myself, I climb off the bed and creep out of my room. Enzo’s door is still open, and when I peek inside, I see he’s asleep.
Heading downstairs, I grab the light blanket from the back of the couch and carry it to Enzo’s room, where I carefully place it over his legs and waist.
His phone is lying right beside him, so I pick it up and set it down on the bedside table.
Cautiously, I lift my hand to his face and place my palm on his forehead. He feels cool to my touch, and it sets me at ease.