Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Looking as good as I can right now, I open the door. It’s cool, but coming directly from the East Coast, this feels like heaven. Still, I need my jacket. Leaning back into the warm cocoon of the car, I grab it from the passenger seat.
I take a good look around and snuggle into the suede jacket my mom and I couldn’t resist buying the other day. Shopping. It’s how we bond, I guess.
“This is a peaceful place,” I announce to the open air, as if stating this makes it so.
“Perfect, just me and Mother Nature.” I glance at my watch—not even seven yet. I slam the car door, causing a loud flock of birds to fly into the sky and swallowing a loud scream.
So much for being fierce. Whatever. I am what I am. I rub my nose—it’s already freezing. I’ll do some deep breathing exercises, get my nerves under control. Maybe I can do some yoga if I can find a spot that’s not too damp. It’s one of the few things I enjoy. I’ve been doing it for years and have become very flexible, but more than that, it centers me.
As I walk toward the trees, stretching my arms, my boots crunch on the gravel. Focusing on my breathing, I try to ignore that in my wild haste, I left my purse, phone, and keys in the car.
Breathe and clear your mind. Nothing or no one is going to hurt you. You’re all alone. The clubhouse is half a mile down the dirt path. I’m truly all alone.
No one is going to steal my purse… or my car… Wait, could I get that lucky? If a biker took the Beamer, maybe I could get my Prius back.
Focus, Julianna. Concentrating on my boots, I move forward, briefly noticing how they’re sliding on the pine needles that blanket the ground. I center myself and breathe out all my fear. Be calm and one with nature.
I will ignore all the cigarette butts and empty Jack Daniel’s bottles littering the area. I will ignore the nagging anxiety that wants to make me look behind and make sure Jason isn’t standing with his hockey mask and knife pointed at me.
“Stop it.” I exhale then freeze. I heard something. I’m not being dramatic; I seriously heard a moan or a grunt.
I think…
“Oh my God,” I whisper, spinning around, my heart beating so fast I’m breathless. What was that?
My hand goes to my lips as if that can stop them from trembling. I know I heard something.
I stand frozen and wait, yet all I hear is the pounding of my pulse in my ears. I almost call out, but that would be beyond stupid. Even in my utter terror, my brain is working enough to know that. What if I’ve stumbled upon a secret meeting? Or worse, a secret murder? They would kill me because I saw their faces… right?
Nothing.
I hear nothing. I almost sag to my knees in relief. My short hippie dress blows in the slight breeze. The wind snakes its way up my bare legs and I shiver. If my heart wasn’t making me breathless from terror, I’d roll my eyes. Who was I trying to impress with this dress?
Axel? Gia’s brother. The man wouldn’t even look at me twice. I should be in tennis shoes and sweats—so much easier to run in.
“Yeah,” the male voice echoes around me as if it’s a magical spell, then silence. I’m about to run when I hear crying. Maybe a groan… it’s not far away. The blood drains from my face and maybe out of my body as I stand frozen in fear.
Shit, I mouth silently. I’m not one for cursing, but if I’m going to die, maybe I should start. I need to get out of here. This is not my imagination.
Someone is being murdered, and I’m the only witness.
“Don’t move.”
I jump, covering my mouth at the deep, gravelly voice coming from the trees ahead.
I’m done for and I’m only eighteen. I don’t move like the voice said, until I hear the crying again, and I can compute that the voice was not directed at me.
I’m shaking and, I think, sweating. It drips down my neck.
What do I do?
Scream? Run? Fight? Stand still and hope whoever it is doesn’t see me? I can’t do that. I need to get help or try to stop it. Why didn’t I bring my phone? I crouch down and try to look through the bushes and trees. Someone’s definitely crying… and moaning. This is a nightmare.
My fingers dig into the damp dirt and I brace myself. I have to help. I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t. Swallowing the nonexistent saliva in my dry mouth, I feel like I’ve been without fluids for days. Glancing around, I look for a weapon, but all I see are pine needles. Where are those bottles? I crawl forward, not even feeling the pebbles that I know have to be digging into my knees. I might faint. Holy God, I see them… him.