Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89985 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Anger tore through me, as I looked up and watched Niamh fighting for her freedom. She was hit hard enough that she suddenly slumped to the ground. I was not close enough, even though I kept running, but it was no use. All I’d gotten was the guy I’d hurt.
I acted, I didn’t think.
Grabbing the bastard who was trying to get away, I pulled back my fist and hit him hard. I expected I was going to have to hit him again and again, but much to my surprise, he was knocked clean out with one punch.
As if by magic, there was no one around as I dragged his body to the back of my car. Slamming the trunk down, I was tempted to take one of my crowbars and start attacking the knocked-out bastard, but I knew that would not work.
I needed to think clearly right now. Killing him wouldn’t get me back to Niamh.
I’d done the ultimate mistake and let my fucking guard down and now, Niamh was back in her father’s clutches and I was pissed off.
I gathered up our picnic and saw that my cell phone was on the ground where I dropped it. I picked it up and expected the call to be ended, but Ivan was still on the line.
“They have her,” I said.
“We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I hang up, that was more than fine, because for the next twenty minutes, I was going to be busy.
****
Niamh
Peter had a gun. I’d seen that with my own two eyes.
Peter had been chasing me down, and he didn’t seem surprised that there had been men to take me. I should have known this was coming.
Fear traveled up my spine.
I’d already come to, inside the truck where they’d taken me. We were still driving so I didn’t know for sure how long I’d been out of it. There was silence in the car. No one was talking and I was staying perfectly still on the floor, while I came to terms with the fact that Peter had a gun. Why did Peter have a gun? He’d aimed it, of that I was sure. Surer than anything, which was crazy, because that would mean he knew exactly how to shoot a gun, and how was that possible if … he was just an ordinary guy who worked at a gym? My only conclusion could be that Peter wasn’t an ordinary guy.
The truck came to a stop and now I felt the panic rising My dad was not a nice guy even when everything was going his way. I’d been a runaway for awhile now, and he’d come to get me himself, which meant this was going to hurt.
My heart raced and I felt the tears coming, but tears and begging never helped me.
The back of the truck opened and I felt the other men climb out. I stayed perfectly still, trying to perfect my breathing in the hope he would ignore me.
I felt someone climb into the back of the truck and I knew without opening my eyes that it was my dad. He tutted and then pain exploded as he grabbed my hair and began to drag me out of the car. I couldn’t pretend anymore as he pulled at my hair. I tried to stop him, and had no choice but to follow him out.
At least he’d grabbed my hair in one chunk, but that didn’t stop it being painful. Pain filled my head from the force of his grip. I tried not to scream or whimper, but that was impossible. Even as I cleared the truck, he didn’t let go.
My father didn’t let go until I was on my knees, and then he used the grip he had on my hair to slap me hard, right across the face. Once one way, then going back the other way. He did that again, and my face was burning. I couldn’t get away, and no one was willing to help me. They were all my father’s minions. His goons.
Finally, he let me go, but this wasn’t for a reprieve. No, this was for him to kick me hard. I curled up in a ball, and his foot connected with my stomach and then my chest, and I turned over for him to stomp on my back.
“Useless fucking slut,” he said.
Then I heard his belt buckle.
“Please,” I said.
I should have known begging for mercy or asking him to stop wouldn’t do me any good.
“Please?” He burst out laughing and that was when I screamed.
The dress I wore didn’t provide any kind of protection from the buckle of his belt as it hit me. I was in for the beating of my life.
All the while, I couldn’t rid my mind of the memory of Peter with his gun. Who exactly was Peter Shadows?