Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I rush to my room and pack a traveling bag, the absolute basics, and stop in Cara’s room to grab some of her clothes.
It takes me under ten minutes, and then I’m racing out of the house. I throw the bags in the back of the car. I’ll get Jeff to torch the place if we’ve been compromised.
Fuck, Cara. Why did you leave?
I can only think of her as I climb behind the steering wheel.
Her name becomes my every heartbeat. She must’ve been more affected than I initially thought.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Fuck,” I slam my fist against the steering wheel when I reach the main road. “Which way did you go, Cara?”
Using only instinct, I turn right, thinking she would’ve tried to get away from the town as quick as possible.
I take my phone out and quickly dial Jeff’s number.
As soon as he answers, I don’t give him time to talk. “Put a trace out for Karen Weston. We need to find her, Jeff. She’s on the run.”
“Christ,” he groans grumpily. “I’ll get on it. I’ve found out the uncle, Tom Smith, has put a hit out on her as well. Be careful. Seems he wants to get rid of her so the mafia can’t use her to get him to pay what he owes them.”
“It’s the last thing we need right now,” I bite out. “Let me know when you have a hit on Cara.”
When I’m done with the call, I become aware of my heart racing a mile a minute.
Four months… that’s all it took for Cara to crawl into the space my heart used to be and make it her own.
CARA
I wake up to The Carpenters harmonizing and shove the pillow over my head. Annie will drive me around the bend with that record player of hers. And she only listens to two records - The Carpenters and the one of Elvis with the scratches on. It hiccups on two of the songs. When she hums along to it, she hiccups with it. It’s actually adorable.
The first week I just followed her around like a lost puppy, and she let me. She showed me how to turn the ground, how to plant seeds, and I stared when she began pumping the weird-looking thing that made water come up from the river to the little patch of land.
Some guy named Jason made it for her. She gave me the impression this Jason is like a son to her, but he hasn’t been around, which I’m thankful for.
I watched her make bread from scratch, and she pickled some chili. I’ll never remember how she did it all, but it was fascinating to watch.
It was also the first time I let myself wonder, why not?
Why can’t I just be right here? With Annie.
I miss my parents and Annie doesn’t have anyone. She’s like a mother hen, and it’s precisely what my broken spirit needs.
We could be together out here in the middle of nowhere. No one will ever find me.
“Annie,” I call as I walk out of the room that’s become mine. I’m wearing one of Annie’s old dresses that she adjusted so it would fit me. Some brush the floor when I walk, but most stop beneath my knees. I’m okay with it. It covers everything, and it makes Annie happy.
“Annie, you want me to run up to the patch?”
I find her on the porch, sipping her homemade tea. I won’t touch that stuff ever again. Annie drinks flowers. She picks them right out back and lets them dry, and then she drinks them. She calls it her version of Chamomile tea.
I’m not so sure about that because they look like plain old daisies to me.
She started explaining that Chamomile is a type of daisy, and I watered the roses nearest to me with the rest of the tea I had left.
“Come sit next to me, honey.” She gives me her all-knowing look. The one I’ve quickly learned leads to a serious talk.
I sit down on the bench and look out toward the trees to where the river lies.
“Tell me,” she starts, “is there something you need from town?” she asks, and I let out a breath of relief. I was expecting questions or worse...
“No, thank you.” I smile. She’s already giving me so much.
“So you don’t need any lady stuff, for you know, down south?”
I flush red at her question, and I start nodding, because duh, I do need those – then the realization slams hard, and the blood drains from my face.
“Oh, God. I haven’t had my period in months,” I gasp as the horrifying thought settles harshly in my chest.
No.
God. No.
“Oh, dear,” Annie sighs.
I shake my head at the shocking possibility staring me right in the face. “I can’t be.” I jump up and start to pace in front of Annie.