Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 244(@200wpm)___ 195(@250wpm)___ 163(@300wpm)
"It couldn't have been that bad. Tom doesn't even weigh five pounds."
"Tom is a demon forged in the pits of hell, Coco. And that shady ass cat at the park sits on a throne beside him."
"Coward," I say, laughing. "I'll take him since you're too chicken."
"There's a difference between cowardice and caution, baby. I'm a wise motherfucker for knowing which is which."
"Right," I say, drawing the word out as I reach for the leash. "I bet that's what you say every time you get bullied by a Chihuahua and run from a little ole cat."
"You're still pronouncing demon wrong," he says, moving to the cabinet to grab pans. "But think what you will. Just don't say I didn't warn you when you come home demoralized and defeated. I'll have breakfast and an 'I told you so' waiting."
"My hero," I mutter, deadpan.
He shoots me a smirk over his shoulder as I clip the leash onto Thanos and then lead him out the kitchen door. The sun is out in full force, blinding me. I place my hand over my eyes, shielding them as I glance toward Ms. Lena's house.
Tom is sunbathing in the window, not paying us any attention.
"Trystan is so overdramatic," I mumble to Thanos, jogging down the steps.
Tom barks once as we pass by, but that's the only reaction we get from him. And Thanos is on his best behavior, like usual, trotting along at my side with his tail wagging.
Halfway to the park at the end of the block, my phone dings with an incoming text.
I pull it from my pocket, my mood immediately taking a swan dive when I read it.
Unknown: We need to talk.
I don't even have to ask to know who it is. Donny. I blocked his number right after I sent his texts to his wife, Madeline. Why I thought he'd leave me alone, I don't know. Clearly, I was mistaken.
I wait until we make it to the park to respond. While Thanos sniffs around a tree, looking for the perfect spot to do his business, I type out a message, my fingers flying across the screen.
Me: No, we don't. I blocked your number for a reason, you creep.
Unknown: Tell my wife that you made it all up, and I'll give you back your job. No hard feelings.
Oh, he is delusional!
I wouldn't go back to work for him if my life literally depended on it. I'd rather die than work for someone who spends his days looking at me like I was put on earth solely to fulfill his disgusting fantasies, thank you very much.
Me: Hell no. Shove the job up your ass.
Once upon a time, I was nice and polite to him. That ship sailed as soon as he told me what he wanted to do to me. While I was making his company millions, he was looking at me like an object. There is no coming back from that.
Unknown: You owe me, Chloe. I did you a favor by hiring you in the first place.
I growl wordlessly, my hands shaking. Is he kidding me right now?
Me: No, you did my dad a favor by agreeing to interview me. I EARNED my job. And I increased profit margins by twenty percent in the two years I worked there. I don't owe you anything, and I damn sure won't lie to your wife about you being a creep. I respect her. But you can go to hell.
Me: Do not contact me again, or the next place I go with your messages is to my dad and then to the cops.
I don't give him a chance to respond before I block the number, my heart hammering.
"What an asshole!" I growl.
Thanos pauses mid-sniff to glance up at me…which means he doesn't see the cat scurrying down the side of the tree, as if I startled it out of the branches. But he does hear it as soon as it lands in the bushes behind him. They rattle and snap as the cat rushes off to safety.
Thanos jumps, yelping like the cat is trying to murder him. Before I even have a chance to react, he's running just like the cat, racing across the park like his life is in imminent danger. And the leash is still looped around my waist.
He practically drags me, my feet skidding across the grass and over roots.
"Thanos!" I shout. "Thanos, stop!"
He doesn't hear me, or if he does, he doesn't listen. He's in full panic mode. The leash cuts into my wrist. My shoulder throbs.
"Thanos!" I cry again, desperate to get him to stop before he yanks my arm from the socket or breaks my wrist.
I'm not sure if the pain in my voice is what breaks through his panic or if he just decides that he's no longer in immediate danger, because he stops running. Literally just…stops.