Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Looking over my shoulder, I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched.
It's just paranoia, but I haven't had to watch my back since I left the streets, and it is not something that I want to have to do again.
Supporting Jack is the only way to get our way of life back.
At the cabin, I ensure every bolt is firmly in place before removing my coat and boots. West is making up the fire out of necessity; the air has a bite to it, and we want to keep Skye warm and safe. His gun rests against the mantelpiece like a guard standing to attention.
Jack slumps silently into the armchair, watching West work, his long legs sprawled out before him. He clutches his rifle between his meaty hands, ready for anything, even in a relaxed pose.
Skye is fast asleep on the sofa, a blanket pulled up to her chin, but a tight expression etched onto her pale face. She’s not finding rest even when sleeping.
"Bill called this morning." Jack cuts the silence, and West snaps his head around.
"Bill? He finally came good?"
Jack smirks, and West heads to the cabinet for the Jack Daniels.
I’m about to pull up a chair when there is a muffled tapping at the door.
I'm the only one who seems to notice, and moments later, the sound rises to a knock, and we are all alerted. It is accompanied by a sense of urgency.
Even Skye sits up suddenly, her blanket falling to the floor.
She looks exposed and vulnerable, dressed in nothing but a plaid shirt; one of West's.
West strides forward, but I’m already ahead of him. I move towards the front door with West at my shoulder. Jack stands and moves slowly behind us, the click of his gun cutting the air.
Sliding back the bolts and pulling open the door more confidently than I feel, I recognize the woman standing on our porch, framed by the gray light behind her.
It is the woman from the other night. The one from the photo that got Skye all riled up. Shona? That's it.
She looks much younger out of the bar setting, wide-eyed, almost feline.
The blue woolen hat she's wearing sits low as if she’s trying to disguise herself as well as defend herself from the elements. Shadows under her eyes tell of sleepless nights. She has the same haunted look that Skye had the first night we met her.
Damn this Carter guy. What the hell does he do to these women?
Her eyes dart from side to side, and she jerks her neck to glance behind her as if she may have been followed.
The tension radiating from her is tangible, and I instinctively stand aside to allow her in and slam and bolt the door immediately behind her.
She shuffles hastily into the main body of the cabin, taking in West's and my mighty bulk before freezing on the spot when she sets eyes on Skye.
Skye's expression is a mixture of shock, anger, relief, and something else. Confusion maybe?
Jack approaches, and for a moment, the only sound is the pulsing in my ears.
Her eyes widen at the sight of Jack's gun.
"I didn't know what else to do." Her voice is almost a whisper; she’s choking back tears, and Skye is frozen in place.
"How the hell did you know where to find us? Does he know you're here?" Jack growls, and the harshness of his tone catches our visitor off guard.
Shona takes a step back until she's pressed against the door, with her hands spread against the wood. Her frail build shrinks further, and her eyes dart around the room.
"I had to come," she says. "Please." One of her hands rises slowly and she focuses on Jack, waiting for him to lower his gun. When he doesn't, she blinks and then removes her hat, which somehow expresses her vulnerability. Skye rises and crosses the room, putting her body between the long barrel of the rifle and Shona.
Jack immediately lowers the gun, but his expression is far from relaxed.
Shona trembles before dissolving into sobs that wrack her body. She seems wrung out. Skye steps closer and wraps her arms around Shona, and the woman sinks into the embrace, her face lost in Skye's neck.
Skye keeps her head level, staring straight ahead. The embrace is stiff, the impact of the photos of Shona with Carter and Hallie the other night still resting between them.
"Hallie misses you, Skye. She’s safe, but she misses you. And I do, too. I'm so sorry, Skye. So sorry." She clings to Skye's shirt desperately.
Does she know that we’ve seen the photos giving her away? Why has she come here?
Jack shifts until he's to the left of Shona, raising his gun again. She glances at him, and pulls back from Skye, focusing on the two barrels of the gun.
"Why are you here?" His voice is a menacing growl.