Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64727 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
He was lying. Wasn’t he?
“Stop lying to me,” I screamed as I pulled my hair, fighting myself for the last bit of sanity I had left. Before I could convince myself this was a part of his game, I whipped my hand out and slapped him across his face. The instant burn soothed the raging storm inside of me as I watched a smirk come across his face.
“That’s it, darling. Get mad, get fucking angry,” he spewed at me right before he stretched his arms out as if he were the king of the fucking world.
“Look around, take a good look. It’s not a lie. All the proof you need is in front of you, behind you. It’s surrounding you, for fuck’s sake, if you would only open your eyes,” he whispered his breath against my cheek. He was lying. He had to be. What did he know?
“How do I know? Oh, I know everything.” He answered my question as if he could read my mind.
“Stop. Just stop. I’ll do whatever you want…” I held my hands out stopping any further assault by him. His hard chest brushed against my fingers. The warmth of his skin against mine sparked something in me.
“If I threw you on the ground right now and fucked the daylights out of you, what would you do? Would you scream?” He joked with a small laugh leaving his lips. “Better yet, I bet you would love it… You would love my cock.”
My already clenched fist reached out slamming into the side of his jaw. My skin stung with the connection, but I wasn’t sure if I did any good since he was still standing there and looked about ten times more pissed off.
“Kick me…” he gritted out. It was then I knew he had baited me. He wanted to get a rouse out of me. Giving him a you’re-fucking-crazy-and-you-know-it look, I pulled back and kicked him right in the shin. Then I did it again for good measure…
“Fuck…” I heard him mutter under his breath as he grabbed at his leg.
“Now run…” Run? He wanted me to run away? What if they found me?
“But…”
“No buts, fucking run. Run until you get to the house. Tell Zerro he owes me one.” He winked at me as he lay on the ground as if I had actually kicked his ass. Inside, I smiled, but deep in the bottom of my belly, a snake of anxiety slithered its way through me. If he allowed me to go, what awaited me once I got to the house? I didn’t know, but I was about to find out. I took off in a dead run toward the stump. I would find out what my father’s intentions were all along. And that was my final thought as I forced myself to pick up the pace knowing the enemy could be on my heels at any second. The harshness of the air I was taking in almost broke me, but I wouldn’t stop running. No. I couldn’t stop running—not when my life depended on it.
Zerro
My body was begging for me to kill someone, something, anything. I wanted revenge, but more than that, I wanted answers. I wanted to know what the fuck happened. Why Mack had betrayed me, where Bree was, and if her father actually killed my mom.
The only way I knew how to get these answers would end up taking me back down a long road to where it all started. John’s house. Bree’s childhood home. As I parked the SUV at the end of the driveway, I looked down the long dirt road. I had asked myself this question a number of times. Would I really be able to kill him? I mean, it wasn’t really a question of whether I would kill him or not. More so, would Bree forgive me if she were still alive? The very fact I was even thinking about it bothering her told me she had weaseled her way deep into my skin.
I had tried—fuck, had I tried. I had done everything in my control to force her out, to make sure she was never brought into this shit. Try as I may, I knew, at the end of all of this, it wouldn’t be love that conquered all. No, it would be death. I may love her, but if her father killed my mother, it made us enemies. No amount of love could make up for the hate surging through me.
The dust picked up around my feet as I walked up the long driveway. My mind wandered aimlessly about all the things it shouldn’t be. Like how many times Bree had walked down this same road as a child. She had run and skipped or simply walked with her head held high.
In no time at all, my mind was coming back to the present as I came around the bend and had my first glimpse of the dilapidated farm house. It needed work, like serious work. The gutters looked as if they hadn’t been cleaned in months, and the shutters were falling from the windows. The once white paint of the house had peeled away and made the house look like a grayish speck.
If he was a farmer, why did his house look like this? Why did all of this seem ridiculous? Unless he wasn’t a farmer, he wasn’t this poor old man he made himself out to be, but instead, maybe he was working for the FBI. My mind whirled as I grew closer to the house.
There was one single truck parked in the driveway. It was his. I knew from the rust liable to fall off if you breathed on it the wrong way. I knew it was his because I knew the people who owed me money.
Slowly, I walked up and around the truck, my hand on my gun. I wasn’t concerned with killing someone. No, I knew someone was going to die.
Walking around the house slowly, I crept up the front steps of the porch. I knew the fucker was here and was probably sitting in this house, watching and waiting.