Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I see it. A door. The door to get out! I rush to it and open it, only to find another damn door.
My heart sinks. I don’t see anyone else here, but I have the certain feeling that someone’s after me. I know I’m not alone now.
I know I have to escape.
I rush to the next door, and the next, even though by the time I get to the fifth I know exactly what I’ll find on the other side. I stifle a sob.
I’ll never get out of here.
I’ll never get back to the place where I have friends, where I’m loved, where I’m free.
I’ll never get back to Timeo.
“You thought you could escape?”
I freeze at the sound of my father’s furious voice. I turn to see him sitting in a corner, glowering at me.
“You’re not real,” I say, shaking my head.
He stands and advances on me.
Not only is he not real… he’s dead. He’s been dead for years. But that doesn’t stop the rapid beating of my heart. I look around me for something, anything to protect myself with, and find there’s nothing. The room is bare as always, and my father’s holding a gun.
He points it at me. “No daughter of mine will whore herself out and bring the curse of Satan upon us. You know where you’re going and that you belong there.”
I reach for the door and yank it open, and this time it opens into a room. “Timeo!” I yell into the room. “Timeo!”
“He’s a traitor and you’re not safe with him,” my father says. “Call his name one more time and I pull the trigger.”
“Starla.”
It’s Timeo’s voice, soft at first, then louder when he says my name a second time. “Starla.”
I wake with a start from my dream. I blink in the darkness of the room and close my eyes as relief floods me.
I’m not in the fellowship.
It was a dream.
“You’re crying, baby,” Timeo says softly, holding me to him. “Are you okay?”
I swipe at my eyes and wipe them dry. “I was back in the fellowship. They were going to kill me. He said I was a whore.”
“Who, Starla?”
I close my eyes, my voice trembling. “My father.”
Timeo holds me close. “Jesus,” he mutters, his arms tightening around me. “It was just a dream. Forget about it. Your father’s dead, baby.” He swallows hard. “You know most of them are.”
“But I didn’t see them. I have no evidence, Timeo. What if they’re still out there, looking for me?”
Timeo lifts me onto his chest so he can look straight into my eyes. “You have my word, Starla. If anyone—anyone—tries to hurt you, they’ll have to come through me first. You get me?”
I swallow at the sudden intensity of his gaze, the sudden vehemence in his voice. I nod. “Yeah.”
I can defend myself, I know that now.
“I know he isn't alive anymore, but it still feels so real sometimes."
Timeo strokes my damp hair from my forehead. “I have those dreams, too."
"What happens in yours?"
At first, I think that he doesn't want to talk about it. He works his jaw and seems to be contemplating what he wants to say. "Mine vary a lot. I have some where I realize that the men I’ve killed aren't dead. And they're after me. I have some where my father’s back, I'm a kid again, and I'm in the house I grew up in. I'm under his thumb, and there's nothing I can do to leave. But none of those compare to the ones I have about you."
I swallow. "About me?"
"Yeah," he says in a low voice. "I sometimes have dreams someone's coming to get you. And I can't get to you. I can't rescue you. And I know in the dream that they're going to hurt you."
"Wow, we're kind of a mess."
He chuckles, and I love the way my body responds to him. It feels so good to hear him happy.
"Believe it or not, I'm starving. You?" he asks.
"Yeah, we had like eggs and sausage hours ago." I give him a quick hug. “I'm sure we can find something more to eat around here.”
"Yeah, I hope so. They were supposed to get a shipment in from the suppliers a couple days ago, but they couldn't get here because of the snow."
I push myself out of bed and stretch my arms over my head. "You know, I know how to make bread from scratch. I can also make preserves from watermelon rinds, and I'm able to make tea by hand out of leaves dried from herbs. Plus, Nonna’s taught me some of her secrets. I'm pretty sure I can find something to cook here."
I reach for a pair of jeans crumpled on the floor.
"No." My heart beats faster, and the need to be closer to him shoots through me all over again.