Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Through the small hole, I could see we had stopped moving. The car was parked in front of an enormous warehouse, its metal skeleton old and tired looking. Most of the windows were broken, looking like jagged glass teeth in gaping maws.
Water glinted in the distance, the river probably. I tried to get a better look at my surroundings. The area seemed deserted, no other cars visible, no people moving about. Just me and Rat Man. I had no idea if he had help or if we were alone.
The crunch of gravel snapped my attention back. Footsteps approached the car, heavy boots coming into view through my makeshift window. I pulled back instinctively, even though I knew he couldn’t see me watching. The footsteps stopped right outside the trunk, and I heard a muttered curse.
I quickly twisted around, making sure my phone was secure and completely hidden. I felt it still in my back pocket. I curled my body into a ball and tried to cover my head as best I could while still keeping an eye on whatever came at me when the trunk opened.
The trunk lock clicked. My heart slammed against my ribs so hard I was sure he would hear it. The trunk flew open with a metallic screech. Bright light flooded in, blinding after the darkness. I barely had time to register Rat Man’s silhouette against the sky before his hand shot out, fisting in my hair.
I yelped as he yanked me upward by my hair. My scalp felt like it was being torn from my skull. My hands flew up instinctively, trying to lessen the pressure on my head.
“Wakey, wakey, princess,” Rat Man sneered, his breath hot and sour against my face. “Time to play hostage.”
He dragged me from the trunk, my body scraping against the metal edge. I landed hard on my knees on the gravel, stars exploding behind my eyes as pain shot up my legs. Before I could recover, he was pulling me up again, still by my hair, forcing me to scramble to my feet or have my scalp ripped off. I grabbed his wrist, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or didn’t care.
“Move,” he growled, shoving me toward the warehouse once I stood upright.
I stumbled forward, my legs numb and unsteady, the pain in my knees and hips nearly unbearable. The gravel bit into my feet through my thin shoes as he propelled me forward, one hand still tangled painfully in my hair, the other gripping my upper arm hard enough to leave bruises.
The warehouse loomed before us, its shadow falling across us like a bad slasher movie. The massive doors hung partially open, rust flaking from their hinges. The darkness beyond seemed too oppressive to breathe.
Rat Man shoved me through the gap between the doors, into the dim interior. My eyes struggled to adjust after the bright sunlight. The concrete floor was cracked and stained, water pooling in spots. The space stretched out cavernous and empty except for some old machinery and what looked like a makeshift living area in one corner.
He yanked my head back sharply, forcing me to look at him. His face was all I could see, those small, close-set eyes gleaming with malice, his thin lips stretched in a smile that chilled my blood.
“Welcome to my humble abode, darlin’.” He threw me forward without warning.
I hit the concrete floor hard, my palms scraping raw as I tried to break my fall. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. Behind me, I heard the heavy doors grinding shut, sealing me inside with him.
As I struggled to my hands and knees, gasping for air, I heard the distinctive click of a gun being cocked.
“Get up,” Rat Man said. “We’ve got preparations to make before your boyfriend arrives.”
I managed to stand again as Rat Man dragged over a chair. He grabbed my arm again and shoved me into the chair so hard it almost tipped. Next, he bound my hands in front of me, the zip ties biting into my wrists. The plastic edges cut deep every time I shifted in the metal chair. Rat Man had pulled them tight enough to pinch my skin, my fingers already tingling from restricted blood flow. The steel folding chair was beaten and bent but sturdy. I tried to move my hands enough to keep blood flowing, but I fought a losing battle there. I decided then I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.
My ankles were secured too, bound to the chair legs with more zip ties. The plastic dug into my skin through my socks, another point of constant pain to focus on instead of the terror threatening to overwhelm me. I forced myself to breathe slowly, deeply. I needed to stay vigilant and wait for an opening when Jag and Knight came for me. Because I knew without a doubt both men would come for me. So did Rat Man.