Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I could barely see a trail through the trees. I followed it, putting one foot in front of the other, eyes scanning the terrain. I was not going to peacefully walk to my death. I’d rather he shot me. But I needed to wait for the right moment.
Moments slipped away, the invisible clock in my head ticking, ticking, ticking as my feet ate up the distance between me and the well up ahead. We followed the trail, twisting around a cluster of old-growth trees, and to my right, the ground fell away from the trail into a steep ravine. I saw my opening.
It would be dangerous, but I’d take the woods and the steep incline over the psychopath with the gun any day. Wishing my hands were free so I could protect my head, I took a last step forward on the trail and threw myself to the side, expecting to go over the edge, bracing for the bone-jarring impact. Instead, a hand closed over the back of my shirt, yanking me back onto the trail.
“Don’t try that again, or I’ll shoot you in the kneecap and drag you.”
I didn’t like the sound of that any more than I liked the idea of dying at the bottom of a well. What now? I didn’t know. I put one foot in front of the other, the muzzle of Cole’s gun jammed in my back, trying to figure out a way out of this.
I ran out of time. A few more minutes of walking on the narrow deer path, and it opened into a square clearing, smaller than the one where we’d left the car. On one side, a line of stone extended, meeting another in a crumbling corner. Once upon a time, there had been a house here. Which meant…
“Over there.” Cole shoved me with the gun, aiming me at the far corner of the clearing, where trees had begun to encroach on what had been the small side yard of the house. I heard the hollow thunk of my foot on wood before I saw the well. Fuck. I really was out of time. I scanned the woods behind Cole, hoping for some sign of rescue. There was only the sun on the pine needles and bare branches, the ground speckled red and yellow with fallen leaves. His hand closed over my wrists. With a sharp jerk, they were free. I caught the flash of the knife blade in the sun as I turned.
“Take off the cover,” Cole ordered, sliding the knife back in it’s sheath and giving me a shove in the back. He raised the gun and aimed it at me.
I shook my head. I knew what happened after I took off the cover. A gunshot, if I were lucky. And if not, those elegant, long-fingered hands wrapped around my neck. No, thank you.
“Take off the cover, Avery, or I’ll shoot you,” he said, his tone chilly with annoyance. He had the upper hand here. I was wasting his time. But it was all the time I had left. I was going to waste as many seconds as I could.
“I’m not—” I began.
A shot rang out, so much louder than I would have thought, slamming into my ears just as fire burned across my upper arm. My opposite hand flew up, fingers coming away red.
“You shot me!” I shouted, too surprised to think about the wisdom of yelling at the man with the gun.
“I told you I would,” he said, the chill now holding faint amusement. “Now take off the cover or I’ll shoot you in the kneecap. That hurts a lot more. And I’ll still make you take the cover off that well.”
I was too much of a coward to push him a second time. Shooting my arm was bad enough. The burn of it made me a little dizzy. I did not want to know what a bullet in the knee would feel like. Slowly, I dropped to my knees and reached for the edge of the well cover, my injured arm protesting in deep spikes of agony. It was awkward, working my fingers under the edge, the weight of the cover pinching the tips as I heaved it up, almost overbalancing and tipping forward into the depths. I managed to get it mostly off when I rose to my feet again, glaring at Cole Haywood over the dark circle in the earth between us.
“What now?” I asked, looking from the hole in the ground to Cole.
He flicked the safety on his gun and shoved it in his back pocket, taking a step to the side, closer to me. “Now, we finish this.”
He raised his hands and moved.
I couldn’t think. If I thought about what I was going to do, I’d lose my nerve. But if this was it, if I was going to die, it wasn’t going to be at those hands.