Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Promising myself that the future isn’t lost, that I can still get it back, I push through the mustard yellow door into the hallway. A few minutes later, I’m down the stairs, through the lobby, and stepping out into the chilly New Orleans night.
I cross the street before starting toward the coffee shop, ensuring as much of my journey is captured on camera as possible. I take deep breaths, filling my belly and exhaling slowly, doing my best to focus on the task at hand.
I push Dean and the girls from my thoughts.
There will be time to think about them later.
Hopefully, to think about them every day for the rest of my life.
It’s my last thought before thick arms close around me from behind, and I’m hauled backward into the dark alley beside the club.
Looks like I’m not going to make it to the coffee shop.
Not now, and maybe not ever.
Twenty-Four
CLOVER
One second, I’m focused on the rhythmic thump-thump of my boots on the pavement, and trying not to freak out about my first meeting with an international drug dealer who’s probably willing to do just about anything to shut me up.
The next, there’s a giant hand over my mouth, stifling my screams as the backpack falls to the ground, and I’m dragged off my feet and off the largely abandoned sidewalk.
There were a few people ahead of me waiting at the bus stop, I think, but I have no idea if any of them saw me get snatched. And even if they did, there’s a good chance they’ll pretend they didn’t.
I’ve seen those videos on social media, the ones where they run experiments to see how many people will take action when they see a man grab a kid off the street and run into a dark building. Over half of the people who see it do nothing, and that’s when the victim is a cute little kid.
I’m not a cute little kid. I’m a woman in a slutty red jumpsuit.
Half the people are probably telling themselves that I deserve whatever I’m about to get as punishment for drawing attention to myself. They’ll never know that I had to choose between drawing attention to myself in an attempt to save myself from a drug dealer and not drawing attention to myself to save myself from whatever this creep wants to do to me. They’ll probably never stop to think that a woman can’t win, no matter what choice she makes. Though, to be fair, I could be making better choices right now.
For the first few seconds of my sudden abduction, I’m too shocked to do more than scream into the hand over my face.
But as the shadows in the alley darken, I realize I’m running out of time to prevent myself from being removed to another location.
Clenching my abs, I hurl my weight forward, startling the man holding me enough to get my feet back on the ground. As soon as they are, I drive my elbow back into his gut with every ounce of the New Orleans grit I’ve cultivated since I moved to the big city. I connect with abs of steel, just like the exercise video Rhonda loved so much when I was a kid.
But this guy isn’t made of steel; he’s flesh and bone, proven by the pained grunt he puffs into my hair.
I’m about to go after him again when I realize how familiar he smells. How familiar and expensive, like a party with great music and unlimited shrimp cocktail.
I’m on the verge of connecting the “fancy perfume” dots when Dean murmurs in my ear, “Stop, Clover. It’s me!”
I sag against him, exhaling a ragged sound of relief as he pulls his hand from my mouth. “Dean. Oh my God. Thank God. I was so scared.” My confession reminds me that I’m still scared, and he should be, too. “What are you doing here? You have to leave. Now. And I have to go. I have to get my backpack before someone—”
“You don’t have to do anything but stay out of the way until this is over,” he cuts in, his voice tight. “If I let you go, do you promise to stay put?”
“I promise,” I say, spinning to face him as soon as his arms fall away. “But you have to promise to leave once I explain what’s happening. It isn’t safe for you here.” I frown harder. “How did you find me anyway? And where are the girls? Are they—”
“The girls are safe. They’re at Elly and Grammercy’s place for the night,” he says. “And I found you because Peter bugged the gym next door.” He motions toward the building beside us, disgust creeping into his voice as he adds, “Though, it doesn’t sound like much working out is going on in there. They seem a lot more interested in making sure they ‘take care’ of the woman meeting Gio at the coffee shop in a few minutes.” He shudders. “Thank God for Peter. Thank God he figured out where you were going before it was too late. Do you have any idea what could have happened?”