Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 72822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
And normally it happened once every few weeks. It’d been longer than that… I think.
Luckily, he’d fed me a decent meal yesterday because I was now feeling that extra energy.
I could practically taste the victory in the air.
It was about to go down.
I knew it.
Drake, though, acted oblivious as he started to spray the water over not just the cell I was in, but also me.
The feel of running water was enough to make me shiver.
I was down, in my guestimations, about thirty to forty pounds… if not more.
I felt weak as a kitten, but the closer and closer he came to me, the more intense the feeling inside of me grew.
Today. Was. The. Day.
The next step he took brought the bright red hose close to my face, and I moved until my body lay on top of it.
When he felt the resistance, he tugged.
I used his surprise and his imbalance against him. He turned and started to yank on the hose again. I used his inattention at his back to my advantage and swept my foot out.
His foot caught on the chain and he fell.
His hands went out to catch his fall, but I moved fast—or as fast as I could, anyway.
He came down to the ground, and I wasted no time wrapping the chain that was attached to my wrist around his throat. Then, for good measure, I brought the hose up and shoved it down his throat.
He sputtered, choked and fought.
Water was going everywhere, not just down his throat.
He was gasping. I was gasping.
My arms and legs burned.
He went limp after about five seconds.
I held him for a little bit longer…then let him go.
Not because I didn’t want to make sure the fucker was actually dead—but because I physically couldn’t hold it anymore.
I fell to the ground, completely and utterly spent, panting as I tried to find the ability to move.
The only thing I could accomplish was reaching for the phone that I knew Drake always kept in his perfectly-starched dress pants.
I found it.
Then groaned when I realized that there was a password on it.
FUCK!
But then I smiled as I looked over at Drake’s hand.
Thank God for the geniuses at Apple. One way around the password protection was the fingerprint feature. Seeing as I had the access to those fingers and their prints via their unconscious, and hopefully dead, owner’s hand, it wouldn’t be a problem for me to get into his phone.
After trying, and then wiping Drake’s thumb dry on the only dry part on his shirt, I gained access to the iPhone.
I didn’t call 911. I called Rafe.
***
Three weeks later
It took me almost a month to gain back some of my lost weight, for my wounds to be treated and begin to heal and for me to find the fucking will to live. Two of those days I spent in and out of consciousness as my body tried to find a way to heal the damage that had been done to it.
Then, I became totally aware.
And when I became aware, I was in pain.
Pain that I relished.
In those three weeks, I hadn’t been feeling well enough at any given time to do a goddamn thing. Until today.
“Just listen to me, goddammit.” Travis hauled me back by my wrist. “You’re not ready to just go charging out there after him.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“I’m not charging after him,” I snapped. “I’ve been working with the therapists. I’m getting stronger. I’m going to grab a hamburger, some fries, check on Mary…and then find my woman.”
Travis’ mouth closed. “You’re not going after him?”
I shook my head. “No.”
Travis was scared I was going after him because, in the hustle and bustle of Rafe finding me, the police coming in, and them trying to save me—because, apparently, the exertion from my fight with Drake was too much on my already weakened and overtaxed heart, and I’d passed out—Drake had escaped.
According to Rafe, Drake wasn’t there when he’d arrived.
I couldn’t tell you, because after placing the phone call to Rafe, the last thing I remember was feeling like something was twisting every muscle in my body. Then I must have passed out.
“Remember, you’re not supposed to overexert yourself.”
I waved my hand in a vague sweeping motion. “I’ll be fine.”
“You will not be fine!” my mother snapped.
I ignored her, as well as the rest of my brothers, and kept walking.
Today was the day.
Chapter 22
If you’re going to fuck something up, fuck it all kinds of up.
Cobie
Present day
Snick.
Frowning, I looked around the kitchen to see nothing out of the ordinary.
However, that was usual. I’d been hearing a lot of strange noises lately… noises that made me freak way the fuck out. Yet, each time I had gotten up to investigate, nothing was there.
I looked over to my kitty that was still laying just as peacefully as he’d been laying hours before, and snorted.