Chapters (50)
- Full Page Image
- Dedication
- Lock Me Inside
- FOREWORD
- CHAPTER 1
- CHAPTER 2
- CHAPTER 3
- CHAPTER 4
- CHAPTER 5
- CHAPTER 6
- CHAPTER 7
- CHAPTER 8
- CHAPTER 9
- CHAPTER 10
- CHAPTER 11
- CHAPTER 12
- CHAPTER 13
- CHAPTER 14
- CHAPTER 15
- CHAPTER 16
- CHAPTER 17
- CHAPTER 18
- CHAPTER 19
- CHAPTER 20
- CHAPTER 21
- CHAPTER 22
- CHAPTER 23
- CHAPTER 24
- CHAPTER 25
- CHAPTER 26
- CHAPTER 27
- CHAPTER 28
- CHAPTER 29
- CHAPTER 30
- CHAPTER 31
- CHAPTER 32
- CHAPTER 33
- CHAPTER 34
- CHAPTER 35
- CHAPTER 36
- CHAPTER 37
- CHAPTER 38
- CHAPTER 39
- CHAPTER 40
- CHAPTER 41
- CHAPTER 42
- EPILOGUE
- ONE MONTH LATER.
- 43. Bonus Chapter 11 1/2
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
By the time I’m wrapped in a fluffy robe and returning to the bedroom, I’ve almost resigned myself to this. At least James seems like a decent guy, even if he’s a little much. He wants to impress me and make me feel at home, which is a lot better than how he could treat me. Like a burden, he would rather not deal with.
This bedroom is no joke. I see now that my paltry furniture would look entirely out of place—the room is so large, my bed and cheap Goodwill dresser would have been swallowed up, looking more like furniture from a dollhouse than anything else. Now, I have a bed twice the size, heavy and sturdy looking, and a mattress so soft I want to sink into it and pull the blankets over my head on contact.
Maybe this won’t be so bad. So long as I can find a way to secure the door, so I feel safe, I might be able to make it through this ordeal. I’m sure Colt and Nix have their own busy lives. All I have to do is stay out of their way.
But I’d feel a lot better about this if I knew I could lock my door. I need privacy. Everybody does, right? I don’t think it’s too unusual to ask for a means of keeping the world out.
Maybe if I put it that way, that all I’m looking for is the guarantee of privacy, my mother will be a little more understanding. I want to try, at least. Otherwise, all I have in front of me is an endless string of nights spent worrying whether one, if not both, of my stepbrothers will come barging through the door.
If only she wanted to understand how they treated me back in school. How they’re still treating me. Yet those stories would fall on deaf ears, so I’m not going to waste my time.
My own clothes are in the dresser, and they don’t take up much space. But they’re mine, so I put on clean jeans and a tee, preparing to sweet-talk my mother into finding a way through this. A new bedroom door can’t cost that much, can it? I’m sure James could afford it.
I go to the door, prepared to put on my happiest face—but when I try to turn the knob, I get nowhere. It’s stuck in place.
Somebody locked it from the other side.