Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 797(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 531(@300wpm)
Until now. So here I am, sneaking out of my room in the middle of the night to find out the truth.
As risky as this is, I’d still be relatively calm about it if I was alone. As it is, I’m not because my best friend is with me. I wasn’t expecting that. I even tried to discourage her from coming. By, basically, daring her to come because that always works with her. I always dare her to do things, making them look like risks, and she always backs out because she likes to be careful. But for some reason, she called my bluff on this, and we’ve been trudging through the woods for the past thirty minutes or so, in search of a spot where I think we may be able to find some clues to this illegal operation. Or it could be a total bust. Either way, it’s worth a trip to find out.
I’ve got a map in my hand, a flashlight—both nicked from the office where we went snooping this morning—and from the looks of it, we’ve arrived at our destination. I look up from the large piece of paper in my hand to find a cabin.
I blink.
Is this it? This cabin in the middle of the woods. Are the Graysons running their illegal operation out of this? It looks abandoned. It seems more than abandoned with its dilapidated condition. The door looks flimsy and the windows have a thick layer of dust on them. The front porch has holes where slats should be, and the staircase leading up to it is as flimsy as the door that a strong breeze would blow apart.
“So what do we do now?” Reverie asks from beside me.
“We do what we came here to do,” I say, and taking a breath, I walk forward. “We check it out.”
Once again, I wish my best friend was safely tucked away in her temporary room instead of being here with me, but what’s done is done. The sooner we check this out, the sooner we can get back to the main house before we’re discovered. To be honest, though, I’m not really expecting to find anything in here as I go around the front porch to look through the window. Maybe that’s why it takes me a few seconds to realize what I’m seeing: a man in a chair.
Wait a second. What?
His head is slumped to the side and his body appears limp. He’s tied to the chair with his arms behind his back, and I swear, even through the darkness, I can see the blood dripping from his fingers. Is he… dead? Is that what a dead body looks like?
“Holy shit,” I breathe out.
“I don’t…” Reverie trails off.
For a few moments, I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should run, go back to my room, and pretend I never saw this; or should I go in and do what I came here to do? This is what I wanted, though, right? I wanted to find something, anything, to give me an edge over my captors. Of course, this doesn’t necessarily point to an illegal kidnapping operation, but it’s something. So why am I hesitating? Why am I not jumping at this chance?
Fuck, I know why.
It’s because of him, isn’t it? It’s because I’m afraid that he had something to do with it. Did he beat up this man? He’s certainly capable of it. What did this man do to deserve such a beating? Was anyone ever deserving of such an attack? Well, sometimes. Sometimes violence is the only answer. And that’s what makes me move: the urge to find out if he was behind this. Not proof or leverage like I wanted, but the need to know if the only man capable of saving an injured animal on this ranch is also a killer.
On Reverie’s insistence, we each grab a wooden slat as our weapon before I bust the door open. I rush to the man and try to somehow ascertain if he’s alive. Reverie is busy untying his arms behind his back. A few seconds later he grunts, and I ask, “Oh my God. Are you okay?”
He groans and Reverie comes around to stand in front of him. “Can you hear us?”
Even though the light streaming through the dirt-caked window is dim, I can see he’s in a bad shape. His face is covered in bruises and cuts, and he can barely keep one of his eyes open. Still, he tries as he takes us both in, slowly, one by one. My heart is racing in my chest, and I really don’t know if this was a good idea or not. Is he a friend or a foe? But no matter what, the right thing to do is to help him. So I’m going to try, and then I’m going to find out who did this to him.