Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 380(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
-- Not if no one finds out.
- Shit. I already told you. I guess I have to do the unthinkable. Take him at his word. Oh well. Off to work!
-- Have a good shift, Eva.
- Have a good night :)
Oh, fuck.
That warming feeling in my chest? It had been years since I knew that sensation. And I don't remember it being quite so strong before.
But I knew it for what it was.
Dangerous.
FOUR
Reign
My fucking head was throbbing, the kind of steady pain that made it impossible to think past it even when you knew that was what you needed to do.
All around me was darkness.
No windows.
A basement would have had windows.
Even if they provided no means of escape.
At least they would have given things some context.
Were there trees around like I was in a family-style home, or was it all sidewalks and buildings like I was in a more city-type area?
What time of day was it?
What noises did I hear?
I had none of that. Not a slip of sunlight to suggest that I had been passed out through the night and we were facing a new day.
It wasn't quiet though.
I could hear the familiar whooshing noise of traffic, but from the sounds of it, not in any of the main areas of Navesink Bank where the speed limits were lower.
There was no one here with me.
Yet.
I wasn't stupid enough to think that would continue to be the case for long.
No one kidnapped you and strung you from the ceiling if they planned to leave you there to die of dehydration.
My shoulders decided to compete for the most painful, dulling the screaming in my temples. They'd strung me up high. Not even the tips of my toes grazed the ground. And judging by the shoulder pain, I'd been here for a while.
Christ.
I was getting too fucking old for this shit, I decided as I tried to rearrange my hands to grab the chain, pulling with as much force as the position would allow.
It gave me a moment of relief for my shoulders, but I couldn't hold it for long.
On a sigh, I pulled up my legs at the waist and thrust them forward, then back, pumping them like a kid on a swing, trying to get my body swinging, get enough strain on the chain that it might break through whatever was holding it in place in the ceiling.
"Fuck," I growled what felt like a lifetime later, sweat slicking my body, running into my eyes.
I didn't know where I was, but the ceiling was solidly built. Or they had been smart enough to brace the chain down a wall as well. I'd swung out my legs as much as possible to see if anything was around that I could kick forward, could use to stand on. If I could get a little slack, I might be able to rest my shoulders for long enough that I could attempt to climb up the chain like a rope at the gym.
I wasn't exactly twenty years old anymore, but the survival instinct could give you fucking superpowers in a pinch.
But there was nothing.
Judging by the way my grunts and curses echoed off the walls, there was next to nothing in the space save for me.
At least I had managed to put the red flag up, I decided as I hung there. I'd gotten the chance to tell my men that something was wrong, that there was something going on, that someone was moving in.
When they figured out I was gone, they would already know it was linked, somehow, to the dwindling supply chain. From there, they would start knocking heads together.
My men had known calm for a long time. And maybe those from the outside would think we'd gotten soft. But I knew better. I knew what these men were capable of, what they had come from, what they would be willing to do to protect what was theirs.
It could get ugly, depending on who this new enemy was.
My men would paint the streets in blood to find me.
And if I didn't make it out of this, they would do everything in their power to take care of Summer, to help provide for the kids that weren't kids at all anymore. Everyone would be okay. With or without me. And someone would pay. Either fucking way.
It was at least another couple of hours before I heard a car coming close, idling, then the engine cutting off. Doors opened and closed.
And then I knew where I was.
Because a garage door grumbled open behind me before slamming closed again.
A light flicked on.
And footsteps came around from behind me.
Then there they were.
My kidnappers.
My possible competition.
And I didn't fucking know them.
Well, no, that wasn't exactly right.
There was a sense of familiarity, like a face you'd seen in passing more than a few times, often enough that they were familiar in a distant way.