Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 253(@300wpm)
I whipped my head back, scratching my cheek on the brick, only to spy a long, scaly tail disappear behind an old discarded shipping box.
Just a rat.
Not someone coming to silence me.
Just a rodent looking for a meal.
Okay.
Alright.
What was my best bet here? To bolt out of the alley and run down the street until I was out of sight? Or should I walk casually, like I’d never seen or heard anything? Like I was just taking a walk at night?
I’d just about decided to book it and was sucking in a breath to do just that.
But just then, the front door of the pool hall pulled open and two darkened figures made their way out.
The smaller form—Irina—turned back to make sure the door was fully closed. Because heaven forbid anyone steal from the hall after she stole from it.
I watched as after the two of them climbed casually into a car and slowly peeled away from the curb.
Like nothing at all had happened.
I watched as the car did a K-turn and then made its way out of town.
My gaze stayed focused on the taillights until I was sure there was no way they could turn back and see me.
Only then did I slide out between the buildings, focusing on my breath as I made my way down the street, keeping myself at a casual pace. Not because I didn’t want to run, but because my legs felt shaky and unsteady as I forced them to keep carrying me.
It was going to be fine.
I just had to get home, get behind a locked door, sit with my thoughts, and try to figure out what my next move was.
Did I tell my bosses?
No.
I mean, no, right?
I couldn’t turn in Irina, knowing full well that they wanted to torture and kill the person who was stealing from them.
But how could I keep going to work, keep taking orders from the person who was stealing from the company?
I’d just walked past the house across the street from mine, too lost in my thoughts to notice the out-of-place car in the driveway until it was too late.
One hand slapped down over my mouth.
Another arm cinched around my waist, pulling tight enough that I couldn’t breathe.
Before I could even think to try to fight, I was off my feet, pedaling at the air.
I saw the open trunk.
I saw it getting closer.
I felt the hard metal of the car against my legs, then the scratchy carpet on my arms and face as I was shoved inside.
I tried to push up, but hit my head.
When I tried again, I only managed to create the space for my attacker to wrap a gag around my mouth.
No.
Not just a gag.
A ball gag.
My mouth was forced open wide enough for my jaw to scream. But the gag prevented me from doing so.
It tightened around my head, catching my hair in the clasps, the strands tugging at my scalp.
That was the least of my worries, though, as I felt something metal clasp around one wrist.
My other arm was yanked behind my back, making pain shoot through my shoulder as I face-planted into the carpet once again.
The metal tightened around that wrist.
The trunk lid slammed.
And I was alone in the dark.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Este
My whole world shrank to fifteen cubic feet of darkness. The trunk pressed in on every side, the carpet rough against my cheek, smelling suspiciously new.
The gag overstretched my mouth, making the corners of my mouth crack. I desperately tried to figure out how to swallow but it led to me choking on my own spit several times.
My lungs dragged air that tasted like rubber and the metallic taste of fear.
Not that it mattered because within a minute or two, my breaths were coming so shallow that they barely expanded my chest at all.
My heart refused to slow. It pounded in my ribs, frantic, louder than the rumble of the engine.
Every swerve and acceleration jolted fresh panic through my veins.
Where were they taking me?
What were they going to do to me once we got there?
My shoulders cramped. My jaw screamed. Sweat slicked down my spine as my teeth ached from having no choice but to bite into the ball gag.
I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the blackness behind my lids would be less upsetting than the dizzying darkness of the trunk.
My head was getting light, floating.
If I didn’t calm myself down, if I didn’t get more oxygen flowing through my body, I was going to pass out.
And then what?
What if they stopped while I was still unconscious? Any chance at escape could be ripped away.
I had to focus.
Five things I could feel: the gag in my mouth, the steel at my wrists, the scratch of the carpet on my cheek, the bruising rattle of my knees against metal, the sweat dripping down my face.