Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“You know then, don’t you? You know I took your mom’s pathetic fucking life while she hid you from us.” He laughs, and the sound causes my insides to quake with anger. My finger is getting really fucking trigger happy.
“Why? Why did you kill her? Who do you work for? Tell me the truth, or I’ll put a bullet through every bone in your body until I get an answer,” I spit at him, my gun aimed and ready. I’m gonna kill him either way… how quickly that will happen is up to him.
He shifts in his seat before standing. His eyes show nothing but hate and anger. Not an ounce of remorse, and for a smidge of a second, I wonder if this is what I look like. Shaking my head, I push the thought away—I’m nothing like him.
Laughing, he says, “Why do you want to know? You’ll kill everyone? Every single person who may or may not have an answer? What about my daughter? She has answers. She knows shit, but yet you still wanted between her legs. Was it good?” What a sick fucker.
Narrowing my eyes, I glare at him. “Amara has nothing to do with this.” I force out the lie easily. She has everything to do with this.
“Oh, but she does. She has every fucking thing to do with it. The both of you are just too stupid to see it.” My anger is building to new heights. He is toying with me, and I’m letting him.
“I don’t give a shit about Amara. I want answers, and I won’t be leaving here without them.”
A loud gasp sounds behind me, and I hold my breath for a moment before stepping back and tilting my head enough to see her. My eyes land on her dirt-covered body, and I almost lower my gun. The urge to go to her and see if she is okay is slowly taking over. I have to keep up this facade a little longer.
The condition she is in is enough to make me pull the fucking trigger and put a bullet in his head. Her hair is matted, dirt caked on her face, and her clothes are a mess. She looks as if she has been held up in a dirt pile.
John mumbles something under his breath, making me drag my eyes back to him. He used Amara’s entrance as a distraction, pulling a gun out and pointing it at me.
Fucking great.
“Amara, how did you get here?”
His statement has my stomach dropping, and I can’t imagine how deeply his words cut Amara. He is asking how she got here, not how she is or if she is okay. Clearly, he knew where she was all along.
“How did I get here?” She repeats his words, agony dripping from her voice. “Why the fuck did you put me in a hole in the fucking field? Why the hell—” She stops mid-sentence, her voice cracking, unable to finish.
“Amara.” Her father scolds her like a child. Like she is the one to blame for all of this. He sighs deeply as if he is about to explain himself, but the words never come.
A moment of silence settles over us before Amara finds her voice again. “You used me. You put me in a fucking hole, and you lied to me. Why? Why would you do this to me?” Deep betrayal is written all over her beautiful face as the words flow freely from her lips.
Rolling his eyes, he smiles. “I was protecting you, child. Simple as it is, I knew you wouldn’t stay away from him.” What a sad excuse of a man.
“Lies,” she mumbles again as if in disbelief. “All you do is lie.”
“It’s not a lie. I’m trying to protect you. Did someone touch you? Hurt you while you were here? No, because I told them I would kill anyone who put their hands on you. I love you, and you heard it out of his own mouth, he doesn’t care about you. All he cares about is answers.”
A small wave of relief washes over me as I listen to him, and I take in Amara. I can see the doubt in Amara’s features, which means he is telling the truth, at least to some degree. No one touched her while she has been captive. She might be dirty and upset, but at least no one broke her, no one raped or beat her.
Amara looks conflicted. I know she is trying to figure out who to believe, and I can’t blame her. She has every right to be wary of both of us.
My gaze is ping-ponging between John and Amara’s tearful face when I catch the smirk on his face. He wants to use her against me. He wants to hurt me even more than he already has.