Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“He never showed up,” I said.
“He didn’t come and see you?”
“He never came to town.”
“What are you talking about? I saw him yesterday.”
And just like that all the air left my lungs.
“What do you mean? Are you sure?”
She nodded. “I was in the post office when a big black town car pulled up at the curb, and he climbed out. I recognized him from the Internet. It was him. He’s here, Cassi.”
Dread spread through me like the shockwaves of an atom bomb. Blood drained from my face, and my mouth went dry. I swung around, my eyes darting about, searching for any sight of outsiders. A strange vehicle. A big black town car. Him.
“Are you okay? You’ve gone as white as a ghost.”
I couldn’t breathe.
He was here and he was going to kill me.
And while Chance was physically powerful, he didn’t have what Barrett had.
Psychopathy.
Barrett was violent and insane.
I would never forgive myself if Chance got hurt because of me.
As I stood there struggling to breathe, my thoughts raced and my heart pounded violently against my ribcage. I should never have involved Chance in this mess. It was selfish and irresponsible. He had his own demons. He’d walked through Hell and still felt the flames on his skin. I had no business getting him caught up in this. Because there would never be an end to the nightmare.
Barrett was right. I would never be free of him. He would always find me and bring hell with him.
It was suddenly crystal clear.
I had to leave.
Run.
“What are you doing?” Missy called out after me as I stormed toward the truck.
“I’m doing what I always do,” I said, opening the door. “I’m running away.”
I climbed in and gunned the engine.
“Well, hey! Wait!” The passenger door opened. “Take me with you!”
I paused, my foot ready to press down on the gas. I owed her nothing. And I would never trust her again. But two sets of eyes would be safer than one while I was getting out of town.
I looked at her, my mind frantically weighing up my options. She could keep watch while I drove; she knew what car he was driving. When we were safely out of town, I could drop her where she wanted to go.
“Climb in,” I said.
Within seconds, I was swinging the car around, the tires screeching as we took off toward the cabin. I would take the car and leave Chance a note. Whenever I could, I would wire him money as payment.
CHANCE
The thing about riding your bike on the open road is that it was meditative. Calming.
Being so free, you drop your ego and let your mind slip away. It gave you the clarity to see things for how they really were.
Unfortunately for me, it was also an easy way for the memories to worm their way into my head.
As we crossed county lines and headed into Destiny, we passed a playground with a small basketball court, and I was rocked by a powerful memory that almost sent me off my bike and into a ditch.
We pulled up to an outdoor basketball court at the neighborhood playground, and my father killed the engine. Across the grass, two men were shooting hoops.
“See that piece of shit in the blue T-shirt?” my father asked.
I looked at the man. He was tall and built well with broad shoulders and strong arms. He intercepted the ball from his friend, lined up the shot, and then sent it straight into the hoop. When he smiled, I saw rows of straight white teeth.
“Who is he?” I asked.
My father’s eyes sharpened with meanness.
“He’s the man who’s been sticking his dick in your mom.”
At first I thought I’d misheard him. “What?”
“He’s been fucking my wife behind my back. And now I’m going to show him what I think about that.”
He waited for the game to finish, for the man to say goodbye to his friend and walk away, before he got him alone in the deserted parking lot. I watched from the front seat of the car as my father approached the man. He was unlocking his car and didn’t see my father storming toward him. For a split second, I wondered if I could warn him somehow. Catch his attention. Make a sound. Anything to get him to look up in time. Because I knew what my old man was capable of, and something told me that this man was going to receive the full force of Garrett Calley’s wrath.
Fear ripped through me, and I was about to “accidentally” lean on the car horn to catch the man’s attention when my father increased his pace and started to run toward his target.
He must’ve said his name, because the man looked up just in time for the tire iron to catch him in the face.
Blood splattered into the air, some of it landing on the windshield.