Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
A bead of sweat rolled down my back as I tiptoed toward the door. There was a lacy curtain covering the top half of the window, and I could just barely see the outline of a blue car in the driveway. I opened the door gingerly, turning the knob so slowly that I felt a little click when the latch disengaged.
As soon as I’d stepped out onto the porch, everything inside me froze. It felt like everything happened in slow motion as the guy who’d been sitting on the edge of the steps smoking a cigarette reached for my leg and I brought up the pruning shears and buried them in his right eye.
It was the most revolting thing I’d ever seen or felt in my life, and I almost screamed as he reached for it, trying to pry it out of his face. Instead, I jumped off the porch and ran to the car.
The doors were unlocked and I climbed inside as the guy fell over and hit the porch with a loud thud. I had seconds, maybe less before the other guy came outside. I hit the automatic door locks and got to work.
Muscle memory is a funny thing. When you think you need it, you can’t remember what the hell you’re doing. But when you don’t think about what you’re doing, your body just goes through the motions it’s done a thousand times. That’s what happened as I rested my foot on the gas pedal, tore at the plastic beneath the steering wheel and yanked out wires beneath. As soon as I’d found the group I needed, I frantically used my teeth to strip the ignition and battery wires, then twisted them together.
I glanced up in fear as I heard the other man come outside and start yelling, but my hands didn’t pause. Sparking the battery wires against the starter wire, I pushed down on the gas pedal and started the car. Throwing it into reverse, I screamed as the man reached for my door handle.
I shoved my foot against the gas pedal just as his hand came up and I saw the gun he pointed at my face. Ducking down as far as I could, I shoved the gear shift into drive. Gravel flew as I peeled out, flying down the long gravel driveway, and I kept my head down as I raced toward the main road.
I sobbed in relief when I realized that I recognized the strip of deserted highway. If I turned right, I was only a couple miles from the swimming hole we’d gone to since we were kids. Left would take me straight back to the clubhouse.
I knew these roads. I’d learned to drive on them. I pressed the gas pedal against the floorboard and barely let up as I hit the first corner. Tires squealed as I straightened the car out, but I didn’t slow down.
My hands slipped over the steering wheel, slick from the blood dripping down my arm. Blinking against the sweat and tears that burned my eyes, I leaned forward and took the next curve too fast, but I refused to hit the brakes. Steering out of the skid, I kept going. I looked both ways and blew through a stop sign, and then another.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, praying that I could make the car go faster. “Please. Please.”
Every second it took to get to the compound was agony, and when I saw the familiar turn and the large gate that blocked the driveway, I sobbed in relief. I was almost there.
I slid into the gravel and barely glanced at the prospects guarding the gate before I plowed right through it, the large latch shattering the windshield as the entire gate flew up against the car, catching for a moment before it flew off behind me.
Within seconds I was in the forecourt, slamming the gearshift into park as I tumbled out of the car.
“What the fuck?” someone yelled as a wave of men ran toward me.
“Rose?” my dad thundered, sprinting toward me. “Thank Christ!”
“Daddy,” I called, stumbling forward.
“I got you,” he said as he reached me, pulling me tight against his chest. “You’re okay, I got you.”
“I left him there,” I sobbed, the weight of that truth so heavy I didn’t know if I could bear it. “We have to go back. We have to go now.”
Chapter 1
Rose
I stood at the counter and watched as the man I loved slid a backpack full of clothes onto his shoulder.
“You said you loved me,” I choked out, staring at Copper in confusion. “What are you doing?”
“I do love you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do.”
My stomach twisted painfully. “You don’t do this to people you love. You don’t just end things.”
“It’s just not working out,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe.
“I know we haven’t been getting along, I—”