Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
As it turns out, she answers that question without me needing to ask it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks in a soft voice once I back away from the sink.
I am not playing this game. She is not pulling me into her web. “Home,” I grunt, taking hold of the handle, ready to pull the door open and get the hell out of here.
“Are you sure about that?”
I shouldn’t let her get in my head, but something in her voice holds me up. Like she knows something I don’t. I look back over my shoulder to find her turned away from the sink, watching me. Her arms are folded over her chest and she wears the kind of smile that sends a chill down my spine.
“Well? Are you going to answer me?” she murmurs, her smile widening. “Are you sure you’re about to go home?”
Forget this.
“Yes. Bye.” I open the door, ready to get the hell out of here and not look back until I absolutely have to.
And that’s when they jump me.
It all happens so fast. I don’t know who’s doing it at first—there’s nothing but arms and hands grabbing me, shoving me backward, forcing me into a corner while laughter echoes until it’s louder than the sudden pounding of my heart.
“What the fuck is this?” I shout, which only gets them laughing louder.
Tiana’s friends. I should’ve known.
What I didn’t know, what I couldn’t have known, is what they plan on doing to me.
They’re like vultures picking at me, tearing off my clothes while I fight. Yanking my leggings down to my ankles, tugging at my T-shirt while I try and fail to slap their hands away. One of them groans when I drive an elbow into her ribs, but all that gets me is the rest of them working harder and faster than ever. I don’t know what to do or how to fight, overwhelmed and way outnumbered.
Tiana moves past us, giggling, poking her head out into the hall.
“Okay, now!” she whispers, waving us on.
One of the girls grabs me from behind and clamps a hand over my mouth while the others pull me along by my wrists. They have me down to my bra and panties, without my backpack, without my phone. I’m not even wearing my shoes as they pull me from the bathroom, then across the hall where a door sits open.
It doesn’t matter what I try to do. I plant my feet, twist, and writhe, but it’s no use. It all happens so fast. I barely have a chance to fight before they throw me into a dark closet hard enough that I stumble across it and end up landing against a row of metal shelves against the opposite wall.
By the time I catch my balance, the door slams shut.
But it’s the click of a lock that turns my blood to ice.
“No!” I shriek, throwing myself against the door, pounding it with both fists. “This is enough! Let me out of here! Are you fucking insane?”
“Have a nice weekend,” somebody calls out. It’s Tiana. It has to be. Nobody could sound that joyful at a time like this but her.
A nice weekend? Something heavy squeezes inside my chest and makes it almost impossible to draw a breath when I realize what she means. They’re going to leave me here. They plan on leaving me here all weekend.
Sheer terror rises like a tidal wave, rushing out all at once in a primal scream. “Help me! Please, somebody!” Pounding on the door with both fists, I scream as loud as I can. “Please! Let me out!”
They can’t keep me in here. Not for that long.
“Let me out! I don’t know what this is supposed to be, but I won’t tell anybody,” I shout with my mouth close to the door so they can hear me if they’re standing out there. They probably are, too. For all I know, they are recording my screams to listen to and laugh at later. To hell with my pride. “I swear, I won’t! Nobody will know. Just please, let me out now!”
Nothing. That’s what I get in return.
Pressing my ear to the door, I close my eyes and listen hard for anything. Giggling, snorting, footsteps.
They can’t.
They wouldn’t.
Dropping to my knees, I lower my head until my ear almost touches the floor, so I can peer out through the inch or so of space between the door and the cold, dirty floor. From here, the hallway looks empty. I don’t hear any footsteps out there. No echoes of voices. Just silence.
“Help me!” Who am I talking to? There’s nobody to hear. It seems like everybody rushed out, the way I was trying to.
The cold, hard truth is in front of me. I can’t escape it no matter how my brain tries. Nobody knows I’m here.