Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
My only hope is that Lauren will come to the game tonight, and I can somehow make things right.
Lauren
Lincoln decided to go to the game with Rayne. Her stepbrother left to go back and play for Duke this week, and I guess she wanted company.
After much internal debate, I decide to go with him. The small, wounded part of me hopes my scent will cause Abe another episode while he’s out on the field. But no. I don’t really want that. I do want him to feel my presence though. I do want him to realize what he’s lost. I don’t think that’s my pride or ego talking. This new, stronger self doesn’t believe things should be over. New me believes that we mean something to each other.
Lincoln and I get out of the car and walk toward the stadium. As we approach security to have our bags checked and show our season passes, a sheriff’s deputy asks if he can have a word with me.
Lincoln stares at me as the officer pulls me to the side. I expect him to search my bag or something. Like at the airport when you get randomly flagged for a full search. But instead, he signals to another officer, who walks over with a man who seems vaguely familiar.
“Hi, Miss Sterling. I’m Sheriff Gleason. We have some questions for you. Can you come with me, please?”
Lincoln walks over. “What is this about?”
The sheriff turns on him. “It’s an open investigation. Your sister is not in trouble, we just need to take her down to the station and ask her a few questions. We will have her back before the end of the game.”
My eyes round. What the hell?
Then a shock of fear goes through me. “Is this about Abe?” I realize why the man who is not in a uniform looks familiar. He has slate gray eyes and a square jaw like Abe. “Is he okay?”
The sheriff gently takes my elbow and starts walking me away from the stadium. “We hope so. But we need your help.”
I wave Lincoln away. “It’s okay. I’ll be back.”
He frowns after me but doesn’t follow.
The sheriff leads me to a patrol car and puts me in the back seat. Abe’s dad–at least I’m assuming he’s Abe’s dad–gets in the passenger side.
“Did something happen to Abe? Did he have another episode?”
That brings his dad’s head around. “What do you know about his episodes?”
This is the guy who made Abe hide his affliction instead of helping him. He made him ashamed of it. He created incredible stress that probably only added to the occurrence of his episodes.
I lift my chin and meet his gaze. “I know everything.”
Wrong thing to say.
Abe’s dad and the sheriff share a look, and I suddenly realize what’s happening here. A chill washes over me. I reach for the door handle, even though the car is moving. It’s locked.
Oh crap. They found out that I know about wolves. Did Abe tell them?
He wouldn’t do that to me, would he? Send me back to the vampire to have my mind wiped?
Then again, we’re broken up. Maybe this is how he cleans up his mess.
I try the door handle again, frantically this time. “I want out. I’m not going anywhere with you. Let me go!”
The men in the front share another look. “I can give her a sedative,” Abe’s dad murmurs to the sheriff.
“It’s all right. We’re almost there,” he answers in an equally low voice. Then he raises the volume when he speaks to me. “It’s okay, Lauren. No one is going to hurt you. We just need to ask you some questions down at the station.”
I force myself to calm down, pretending to play along as I slowly reach my hand into my purse. I need to text Lincoln.
The car stops. I’m not sure whether to be surprised that they actually took me to the station or not. I whip out my phone, fingers shaking as I try to fire a text message off to Lincoln
The back door flies open, and the sheriff snatches the phone from my hand.
“Give it back!” I lunge for the phone, but the sheriff spins me around and pushes my front against the car, snapping a pair of handcuffs around my wrists.
“This is for your own protection, Lauren. Now, come with me.”
I attempt to sit down on the ground. I’ve heard about protestors making their bodies heavy. It has no effect. These men are shifters. They each lift one of my arms and carry me between the two of them like I’m a toddler swinging between her two parents.
Someone holds open the door for us–a man in a suit. A human?
“Excuse me.” I turn to look at him, and the moment he catches my gaze, my entire body goes limp.
Too late.