Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
But I need answers. I need them now. My breath fogs in front of me with every ragged breath as Sawyer makes another call.
I will never fucking forgive myself. Never. She needed me, and I wasn’t there. No matter who took her, I wasn’t there to stop them. She could already be dead, snuffed out like a candle. All the light would be gone from my world forever.
Until I find her, all I can do is imagine carrying her loss with me for the rest of my empty, useless life.
Chapter 33
Allie
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse.
Lying here for hours, staring at the ceiling, I consciously measure every single breath I take. Not only to keep myself calm, but to keep from waking the man draped over me all this time. He’s heavy and sleeping contentedly. Torturing me.
This endless night has been the longest of my life, filled with nothing but questions. How do I get away? How long do I have before he wants more than simple contact like this? What is he going to expect from me?
I know the answer to that one, and every time my thoughts brush up against the sickening idea of having sex with him, I have to bite my lip hard to keep from whimpering. I tasted blood the last time.
Now, with nothing but darkness outside the window, I feel it against my leg. Something hard. Something that makes me clamp my mouth tightly shut so I won’t gag when his erection pokes me.
He’s still asleep, and I know he can’t help it, but what happens when he wakes? What do I do if he wants to do something about it? I can’t take it. I have fought so hard for so long—it feels like forever. And I’ve made it through in one way or another.
But this? This might be what breaks me. Because now, I’m alone.
For a moment, after hours spent listening to him snore while he cuddles close to me, the idea of giving in is tempting. Letting go. Not fighting. Disconnecting and checking out. That way, I won’t have to feel anything. I won’t have to think. I won’t have to remember. It might be my only way of protecting myself in the end. Shielding my mind from brutal reality.
But no matter how many times I try to convince myself that’s the way to go, something deep inside won’t accept it. Whatever is left of my strength and my pride. It wants to fight. It wants to find a way through this, even if I don’t see the way in front of me yet. I have to believe it’s there.
By the time he starts to stir for real, like he’s waking up, I’ve made up my mind. I am going to get out of this, because nobody is coming to rescue me.
The first step: I need to make him believe I’m happy to be here. It means ignoring my fear and disgust when he lifts his head from my chest. I didn’t realize how heavy it was until now, when it’s gone.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says with a tender smile that turns my stomach. “How did you sleep?”
I’ve always had kind of a weird sense of humor. It would drive Mom nuts, the way I would laugh when she was being serious. My laughter would only make her angrier, which would make me laugh more. Not to be nasty or anything. I just couldn’t help it.
That’s why I want to laugh now. Fatigue and exhaustion and a clear sense of how absurd this situation is.
Instead of telling him the truth, that I didn’t sleep a wink, I tell another lie. “Great. Thank you. It’s so peaceful here, isn’t it?” I need to find out where I am. I don’t want to come right out and ask in case it makes him suspicious. Then he might never answer any questions.
“It is, isn’t it? Far enough away from the road that you can’t hear anything. I always knew this was where we would end up.” Instead of getting up, it’s like he’s snuggling closer to me. The way people do first thing in the morning.
The way Kade and I would.
Don’t scream. Don’t show him. My jaw hurts from pretending to smile, but I don’t have any choice. I need to make him believe I’m happy. “Did you pick this place just for me?”
“No, this is where I grew up. This was my daddy’s place. I’ve been fixin’ it up for a long time, whenever I had a chance to come out.” His eyes narrow a little, and his tone turns sharp. Clipped. “And then I didn’t have a job anymore, so I didn’t have anything better to do.”
Change the subject. Turn it around before he gets mad. “Well, it means you had time to make everything more comfortable.”