Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Squinting my eyes, I watch Quinton look up and down through the tiny remaining spaces.
I don’t know what raises my alarm first—the sound of a heavy rock crumbling above us or the sudden shock of vibration? Either way, I act before I have time to think about it. I’m closing the space between us in a fraction of a second. Time slows, and my body acts on instinct.
My fingers dig into Quinton’s dirt-covered shirt, and I shove him out of the way using my entire body weight. I slam into him with such force it could rival the hit of the large piece of rubble almost hitting Quinton.
The piece of concrete hits the ground at the same time we do. Quinton took the hardest fall, his back landing against the unforgiving ground while I land right on top of him.
My heart is racing, and I clutch onto Quinton, afraid he might disappear if I let him go. The thought of something happening to him terrifies me. He’s one of the few people at this place who actually cares about me. Pressed against his firm chest, I let the sound of his rapid heartbeat calm me enough to pull away and look into his eyes.
A mixture of shock and anger flickers in his dark depths.
“What the hell was that?” he growls, his fingers digging into my skin with enough force to leave bruises.
“That big piece of concrete almost hit you.” My lungs are burning as I try to catch my breath. I can feel Ren and Vito’s eyes on us, and I’m sure they’re wondering if I’m crazy.
Pressing his forehead against mine, he whispers, “Don’t ever do something like that again. I almost lost you once. I can’t risk losing you again, and especially not because you tried to save me.”
“Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do,” I growl back.
“Fucking Christ, Aspen.” He shakes his head, sending locks of brown hair flying while some remain stuck to his clammy forehead. “The idea of losing you kills me. Don’t sacrifice yourself for me.”
Before I can respond, Ren interrupts. “You guys okay?”
“Yeah, we’re okay,” Quinton answers for both of us, his voice gruff. Gently, he eases me off his chest, and we both get up. I rest against the wall, trying to catch my breath. I’m shaken up but still alive, and that’s all that matters. I can feel Vito’s hot gaze on me and look up at him through my dust-covered lashes.
“What do we do now?” I ask, needing to break the tension.
“The stairs are a no-go, obviously, but we can follow the air vents up if we go back down one level.”
“At this point, I think that’s the only option we have.” Ren peers over at the door, where chunks of concrete block it. To get out of here, we will have to move them.
“Let’s hurry and move the concrete so we can get out of here before something else blows up,” Quinton urges and jumps into action.
I shiver at the thought of another bomb—or whatever that was—going off while we’re in the stairwell. We’d become trapped and die beneath the rubble. I blink the thought away and find Ren, Quinton, and Vito moving the gigantic pieces of concrete out of the way. It doesn’t take long for us to move the debris and get the door open.
“Let’s stay together,” Quinton adds as Ren opens the door.
“Sure, Dad.” Ren scoffs and disappears on the other side.
Once we are all out of that cramped space, Quinton stays real close to me, as close as one can be without touching them. A shiver snakes down my spine. It’s darker in the hallway; Quinton, Vito, and Ren pull out their cell phones and switch on the flashlights. Good thing they remembered their phones, unlike me.
It’s hard to hear anything over the blaring of the siren, and it feels like déjà vu all over again.
The last time this happened was right before I left Corium… right before Matteo happened.
Anxiety spreads through my stomach like acid, burning my insides painfully. Forcing those dreadful thoughts away, I closely follow Quinton as we turn into an office. We all walk into the dusty room, and Quinton closes the door.
Vito grabs a chair and carries it over to the far side of the room. With the added height from the chair, he reaches the ceiling with no trouble. “Thank fuck, this isn’t the type of vent screwed in,” Vito says and pries the vent cover off the wall.
Using the flashlight on his phone, he pops his head into the duct and peers around.
“What exactly are you looking for?” Ren yells, and I have to wonder the same thing.
“Just want to make sure we’re going to fit. It will be tight, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem. We’ll have to climb up one by one.”