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)
Unlike in Montana, I actually had a weapon on me, though. Because I’d just been scraping some sticky substance off the bathroom floor with a razor blade set in a holder.
If I had to kill someone to save my daughter, so be it.
I flew into the laundry room and hid the weapon in my back pocket, not wanting them to disarm me as soon as they came in.
But I did move behind the door, grabbing the knob and holding it hard, waiting until the footsteps moved into the doorway, then ramming the door into him as hard as possible.
There was a satisfying thud and grunt of pain.
But then there was a second set of footsteps running down the hall.
Saying a prayer that Denali would do what she was told, I flew out of hiding and threw myself at one of the guys.
I didn’t recognize myself then. I was feral.
I slapped, punched, scratched, and pulled hair.
But four hands were on me, giving better than I got.
One guy had me in a chokehold from behind as the other pummeled my ribs—a pain so intense I couldn’t scream, couldn’t even breathe.
But I somehow managed to bring up my leg, slamming my heel into the guy’s crotch, sending him falling to the ground, clutching his groin.
With him down, it finally felt like time.
I reached backward, closing my hand over the handle of the razor blade scraper. Then, bolstering my courage, I grabbed it and sliced it across the hand at my throat. Once, twice, three times.
Once released, I whipped around, stabbing, scraping, then shoving him backward.
He stumbled and fell into the hall bathroom.
Instead of running, not trusting that I had incapacitated either of them well enough, I followed him in.
I grabbed the toilet tank lid and swung with everything in me.
“I don’t even know how I could turn with my ribs as hurt as they were,” I admitted.
“Adrenaline,” York said, shrugging, but nothing about him was casual right then.
Once he slumped, I went back out into the hall. The other guy was trying to get up. I didn’t even hesitate.
I swung.
He fell forward onto his face.
Then, bleeding from my nose and lip, I ran down the hallway, rushing toward the primary bedroom. Only then did I realize she hadn’t listened to my orders.
She was standing in the open doorway, shaking from head to toe, eyes pouring tears, and having wet herself from fear.
I didn’t hesitate; I grabbed her and ran.
I climbed in the driver’s seat, dropping Denny into the passenger seat, locking the doors, throwing an arm across her chest, then peeling away from the house.
I didn’t slow until I was twenty minutes away.
Only then did I pull off into the lot of a convenience store to breathe, to try to tamp down the fear, and to comfort my daughter.
Everything then was a blur. I have flashes of memory of changing Denny’s wet shorts and underwear, of using baby wipes to clean up my face and wipe the man’s blood off my body, then pulling on a shirt without any evidence on it and tossing my old one in a dumpster.
I put Denny in her car seat once she’d calmed down and spent some precious money on a fast-food meal to try to apologize for what she’d seen.
But my most vivid memories didn’t come back until the shock wore off and the pain settled in.
I stopped back at our motel to grab our things and wrap up my ribs. Then I was on the road again.
“To here.”
“I didn’t even stop at a motel to sleep,” I said. “I used bags of our clothing, bedding, and stuffies to fill the backseat like a bed and slept back there with Denny at well-lit rest stops.”
“But your bruises have faded.”
“Because I didn’t have an address for you. Just the Miami area. I was down here for over a week before someone even said they knew you. Took a little longer to get an actual address.”
He nodded at that.
“Do you think you killed either of them?” York asked, tone casual, like we were just discussing the weather, not murder.
“The cuts were too superficial. I didn’t get him in his neck or near the veins in his arms. I don’t know if I hit them hard enough in the head to kill them.”
He nodded at that.
“I’ll look into that.”
“What do you mean?”
“See if bodies were found. Might even have someone ride up there to check the house, in case they had it rented as a trap.”
“And if there are bodies?”
“Then I drive up there and get rid of them and clean the scene.”
“You’re saying that like it’s normal.”
“Remember the night we met?”
“Yes.” Even just the memory had desire blooming through me.
“I’d just gotten back from burying a body deep in the woods around that town. That was my job. I hid bodies. For the mob.”