Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Torturing Chan.
They didn’t go into details, but I knew what they’d be doing.
But… “What about Randel?”
“Randel?” Mabel asked in alarm. “Who’s Randel?”
Panic started to edge through me. “Randel. The other half of the serial killer, Corpse Violator.”
Silence.
Abrupt and sickening silence.
Then Mabel was on her phone, calling someone.
Seconds later, Gentry and Black entered the room in full uniform. It was such a short amount of time that I knew that they’d already been on the floor, likely close to my room.
Both had dark circles underneath their eyes, letting me know that they hadn’t slept a wink since this had all started.
“Tell me everything,” Black ordered.
So I did.
Every single detail.
When I was done, and I felt hollow inside, Black left the room.
Gentry, however, stayed.
He parked himself at the end of my bed, sitting practically on my feet, and crossed his arms over his chest.
He stretched his legs out in front of him and looked down at his forearms, studying them with such intensity that I couldn’t help but kick Gentry with my foot.
“What is it?” I asked.
He sucked in a deep breath, then let it out slowly.
“It’s been forty-eight hours,” he said with little to no emotion in his voice. “You’ve been in an induced coma for that entire time, due to your breathing. Not to scare you, but…Randel is gone.”
I closed my eyes as my fear started to take root again.
He caught my knee with his big hand and said, “Don’t.”
I looked up at him. “I’m not sure how to ‘don’t.’”
He squeezed harder.
The pain, though light, seemed to help. “I’m not going to give up here.”
I felt tears hit my eyes. “I’m scared.”
“You’re protected by the Dixie Wardens Motorcycle Club. The club has over ten thousand members in the United States alone. We’re also one of the biggest clubs with hundreds of support clubs. Once we put our minds to something, we don’t quit. We’ll find this man. He won’t be able to run and hide anymore. Plus, we have a secret weapon.”
“What?” I asked, sounding as forlorn as I felt.
“You,” he pointed out. “He messed up. He left you alive. And you were able to share that there was another man. We have video camera feed of what he looks like. We have Apollo, who regularly works with several government agencies. Facial recognition software is an amazing thing. We’ll find him pretty quick…if he stays in the US.”
“There’s only one problem,” I croaked, fear once again slithering down my spine. “He knows about Creed. He knows that Creed, my brother, is alive. He knows he didn’t die in that prison break. He will use that as leverage…”
“You let us worry about that,” Gentry said softly. “Like I said, we have ten thousand Dixie Wardens in this world right now. If not more by now. We have their family and friends. We have support clubs. We have Apollo and several other hackers. He may be gone, for now, but he won’t be gone long.”
I wish I shared his hopefulness.
As it was, I was finding it hard to breathe again.
Fear and panic were not my friend.
He came in hours later.
I knew it was him based on the way he walked and the way he breathed.
As he got closer, his scent hit me, too.
I turned over on my side and started to cry, reaching for him.
He gathered me into his arms, picking me up like I weighed nothing more than air, and cuddled me into his hard chest.
I tucked my head under his chin and held on for dear life.
“Shhh,” he said. “Calm, deep breaths. Shhhh.”
I slowed my breathing, but I didn’t stop crying.
That was impossible.
For six whole hours—I knew it was six hours due to the clock they kept tacked to the wall in that barn—I’d begged whatever God there was that he’d find me.
And he had.
He’d found me, and he’d saved me, and now all of that fear was pouring out of me because I was finally safe in his arms.
“I h-heard,” I hiccupped through my tears. “That the Hubers saved me.”
He rumbled deep in his throat. “They’re fucking lechers, but you’re right. They saved you. Patrick gave me the idea that maybe you were at the place across the road from Denver’s ranch. Some old man sold it to some out-of-towner. Denver had been pissed. He’d had a gentleman’s agreement, remember?”
I had.
Which I confirmed with a nod, but not a word.
Tears leaked so fast down my cheeks that they were soaking both of us.
I could feel his shirt wet beneath my cheek.
“I’ll have to bake them a pie,” I offered.
“You’ll give them nothing, because just because they gave up where they thought you were held, they still go out of their way to make you feel like shit. They did it for their own selfish purposes. They only wanted you back because they like looking at your ass every day.”