Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“She’s got a sense for when you’re trying to talk and interrupting it,” I said.
“Honestly, she’s not usually like that. She has this innate ability to know when I need to have an adult conversation and just… occupy herself while I do that. I think it says a lot about how comfortable she already is with you that she constantly wants to talk to you.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“I always hoped she would have a good father figure in her life. I’d like to think I’m more than enough. God knows I have loved her enough for two parents. But I have been painfully aware of the fact that I am single, that I don’t have any close family, that if anything happened to me, she might end up in the system. I couldn’t stand that thought.”
“So, you are single.”
“Yeah. I mean, I’ve been single since I found out I was pregnant. That hardly felt like the time to get into some kind of relationship. And I never wanted to be someone who had a revolving door of men in and out of my kid’s life. Though, I guess I gave her a completely different kind of instability.”
“Moving around a lot,” I said.
“Yes, that. And financial instability.”
“Hey, I don’t know everything about your life, but I do know that you have shoes that are nearly worn through the soles, but Denali has an entire wardrobe of princess dresses, with matching shoes, jewelry, and tiaras. You might have had times where you wished you could give her more, but from where I’m standing, she hasn’t wanted for anything.”
“It’s not things she’s needed, per se. But I couldn’t take her out to eat, to the zoo, the arcade, the movies…”
“She’s young, Runa. There is plenty of time for her to have all the experiences you want to give her.”
“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself.”
“Can we circle back, though?” I asked.
“To the moving around.”
“I have a feeling you didn’t exactly do that willingly.”
“Not at all,” she agreed, sighing.
“Talk to me. I can’t protect you two if I don’t know what’s going on.”
“That’s the problem, though.”
“What is?”
“I don’t know what the hell is going on, either.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Runa
I told him about the men, about the shadows, about having a tail when I went places, about moving and hoping it might end things, that I’d just gotten the attention of the wrong men and needed to get away from them.
York was relaxed through all of that, getting the same false sense of security I had at the time.
But I watched him tense muscle by muscle as I told him about the shadows following me, about the break-ins, and the poisoned iced tea.
He looked ready to snap when I got to being deliberately crashed into. With Denali in the car with me.
“Tell me that’s it,” he demanded, voice a harsh whisper.
“I wish.”
“But.”
“But… then there was Montana.”
I’d been trying to head back toward what little family I had left, hoping there might be safety to be found there. Hoping not to need to rehash all the hard feelings that had me leaving town when I was eighteen with nothing but a tent, a bag of clothes, and the cash I had from working all summer.
But I’d needed to stop in Montana, where I found an incredibly cheap motel, to be able to work for a few days before I continued on.
It was such a small, quaint, friendly little town that I felt my defenses slipping a little. I’d almost convinced myself that it was a place I could maybe settle down, put down roots.
I’d been walking back to the motel with Denali in a foldable cart that I used to cart not only her but supplies when it was too close to drive, but too far for her little legs.
As I was passing an alley between the last two buildings in town—one abandoned, one closed because it was Sunday—hands reached out. One grabbed me around the waist. The other closed around my throat.
It was shocking how quickly my lungs burned from lack of oxygen, how hard my heart hammered, how everything went blurry around the edges. Everything except my daughter’s face—wide-eyed and uncomprehending.
All I could think was that there were always two men. If only one was choking me, where was the other one? Were they going to grab my daughter? Hurt her?
I clawed at the hand around my neck, wiggled, squirmed, struck out with my elbows, and slammed my foot down on the top of his.
To no avail.
My brain went fuzzy.
The pain in my chest intensified.
Not sure what else to do, I grabbed the hand around my neck, took two fingers between them, and yanked them as hard as I could in the wrong direction.
I heard the snap just a second before his roar of pain.
The hand loosened.