Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
I probably wouldn’t retain half of it, but I made sure to keep watch. Keep adding information.
Hopefully, some would still be there by the time I finally made it out of this hellhole.
And I would be making it out.
At some point, they’d slip up. A mistake would be made. Then, I’d use that moment of distraction to escape.
I’d grown up in the wilderness. I’d learned to fish using a stick, some fishing line, and a hook. I knew how to shoot. I knew how to survive in the mountains. I knew how to do it all.
The door to the shed opened, and the man from earlier burst inside.
“Since you’re here, we’re going to get you to fix our dogs up later.” He smiled. “You didn’t tell me you were Denver’s girlfriend.”
That news was a surprise to me.
I didn’t share that surprise with him, though.
“I live with him,” I lied. “Been together for a few weeks. It’s new.”
“New enough that he won’t care that you’re missing?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, he’ll care.”
And he would.
I’d done a lot of soul searching in the few hours that I’d been stuffed into this cage, and in those hours, I finally came to terms with a few things.
Those things being mainly that I’d given Denver a bad shake.
He’d been put into an impossible situation, and he’d come out the best way that he could.
I’d been hurt in the process, but I’d been hurt less by him fixing what he did as compared to what would’ve happened had I found out that I’d lost access to my father’s land because of our financial decisions over the years.
“Well, he didn’t care that much because he left,” he explained. “Stopped by. I showed him the proof that you were there and then left. And he was satisfied.”
I highly doubted it.
But there was no reason to inform him that his entire operation was about to be blown to smithereens.
Denver would be coming back.
Likely with his club members at his back.
When that happened, this man in front of me would be wishing he hadn’t taken me.
He smiled a leering smile that had my insides flinching, then he kicked my cage right where my fingers were.
I narrowly managed to get them away from the metal in time for his foot to connect.
The door slammed behind him, and I breathed out shakily.
My eyes went to the part of the cage where he’d kicked, and my heart skipped a beat.
The cage was dented in, and a few of the loops where the top connected with the bottom were now unlinked.
My heart leaped into my throat, and I started to work the cage apart.
I’d tried earlier, but the tension was too strong for me to move it.
But now that, that there was an opening started…
The dog fighting started, and I tried to block it out as best as I could.
My heart was literally breaking, and I was crying uncontrollably as the whimpers broke my heart into tiny little pieces.
That sadness and anger fueled my desperation to get out.
And eventually, I did.
I got out through a space that was barely enough for me to fit through. As it was, the roughened metal dug into my skin as I pushed myself through the opening I was able to give myself between two panels.
Angry lines appeared on my belly, and I knew that I’d be sporting some bruises in the morning.
My next obstacle was the shed.
The door was locked—I’d heard that lock click into place the moment the man had left earlier—but the shed itself was laughably wobbly.
It took me no time to find two boards next to each other that were barely nailed in on the opposite side of the dog fighting to my right.
After I got out, I took a look around at my surroundings.
There were cars everywhere on this side.
People milling about, too.
Some women, so my presence wouldn’t be too noticeable.
I stood up like I was supposed to be there and started walking with purpose.
I made it to the trees and made my way to the house.
I’d just gotten to the yard line when a commotion besides the dog fighting caught my attention.
A motorcycle.
My heart leaped into my throat as excitement started to pour through me.
But just as I started to step out toward the sound of the bike, I had this feeling of ‘don’t do it’ and stopped.
Since I’d already ignored that inner voice trying to keep me alive once today, I decided to listen to it and stayed in the trees.
Thank God I did, too.
When the bike pulled to a stop, the biker—clearly wearing a Dixie Wardens MC cut—got off the bike and walked right up to my kidnapper. They did that manly handshake, then walked toward the house.
Their voices were pitched low, so I missed most of what they were saying until they got close enough.