Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
As adrenaline rushes through my blood vessels, all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears, but I refuse to allow my body to freeze in fear and let Travis down. I quit thinking about what I have to do and just do it. Push comes to shove, and I quit rationalizing with my thoughts as my instincts take over. My reflexes intuitively respond without another conscious thought.
I draw the gun out from underneath the pillow at warp speed, and a bizarre feeling washes over me as everything seems to move in slow motion. I watch, feeling detached in an out-of-body experience as my left hand meets the other to help stabilize the gun.
I cock my head to the side as my right eye lines up with the sight on the Sig. I don’t fuck around. I aim for the man’s head, and before I know it, three successive shots have rung out, shooting off rounds just the way Travis taught me.
I don’t even remember feeling the recoil from the handgun as it fired, nor do I hear the shots ring out, but my ears sure as hell are ringing in a high-pitched sound in the aftermath. Feeling detached from myself, as if this isn’t really happening, I watch as this man who once had a living, breathing heart collapses lifelessly to the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Oh. My. God. I’ve just shot and killed another human being. All of my limbs lock up as I freeze with shock and disbelief. I’m paralyzed, and I sure as hell don’t want to peer over the mattress to see the final outcome.
My brows furrow in confusion as Travis is suddenly in my face, his lips are moving, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. He grabs my shoulders and starts to roughly shake me. I begin to hear his voice as it breaks through in segments. He sounds muffled, as if he’s talking underwater.
“Now is…time to zone out. We’ve got…out of here,” he yells in dire urgency, but I can’t comprehend his fragmented words.
Travis roughly shakes me like a rag doll when I don’t respond, repeating, “Jules! Snap out of it! You know the drill; we’ve practiced this. We’ve got to move!” I feel paralyzed, the shock and fear locking up all my limbs, rendering me useless.
His eyes become plagued with worry. “Jules, baby. Please, snap out of this,” he pleads in an urgent tone. “Our lives depend on it. Don’t check out on me now.”
I blink my eyes hard several times, trying to come out of my stupor. His fingers work to pry my hand off the gun. When I realize what he’s doing, I relax my grip, letting him have it. He then places the gun behind his back, tucking it inside the waistband of his jeans, I’m sure. I’ve watched him place his weapons there a million times before.
I know I have to force myself to move; however, it’s not fast enough for Travis. He takes control of the situation, breaking the spell for me as he grabs me underneath my armpits, lifting me off the bed. He makes me feel as if I weigh ten pounds the way he handles me. I feel numb to the core, an emotionless robot as he holds me steady, with my legs trembling. I hope he doesn’t decide to let go of me anytime too soon, or I’m going to collapse to the floor.
“Breathe for me, baby.” He slowly inhales a deep breath with me, and we hold our breath together, just the way he taught me. Then we both gradually exhale, holding our lungs empty for a few heartbeats before we repeat the cycle.
“Now, you remember our buzzwords?” he asks, and I nod in response. “Say it aloud for me,” he commands.
I breathe through a cycle of air one more time before I recite the mantra he made me learn. I thought it was stupid at the time, but right now, I cling to it like a lifeline as I whisper, “Stay outwardly focused, no introspection, keep calm, and carry on.”
“Very good, sweetheart. I want you to keep repeating that in your head. Focus on those words, what they mean, and keep breathing while you get yourself together, okay?”
I grab on to his t-shirt, fisting the front of the fabric in my hands, double checking he’s truly alive and standing right here before me. I almost lost him. I lean my forehead into the middle of his steel chest and close my eyes; I just want to cry. My hands begin to shake, and my breath hitches as a tear slips out of the corner of my eye.
“Ssh,” he whispers as he cradles my cheeks in the palms of his hands, lifting my chin to meet his gaze. “Keep it together for me. Just for a little bit longer, and I promise we’ll get out of this alive.”