Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
"You have no idea what you're doing," I sob, my eyes frantic as if there's a single damn thing I can do to change this man's mind. "He'll kill me."
"He'll end up killing you if you stay, Aspen. You know that as much as I do."
"Th-this isn't just ab-about me," I manage.
I feel like I'm going a little insane, and I know there's a real chance I'll get to a certain point and I won't ever be able to get back in touch with full reality.
"My son!" I scream. "You're going to get my son killed."
Instead of assuring me that won't happen, he remains silent, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter as he leaves the busy streets of town.
"Luke, please," I beg, but he never looks in the rearview mirror again.
I'm already due back at the house by the time we pull up outside a house I don't recognize, and I watch as a man I don't know opens the front door before heading toward the house.
"Luke," I whisper when he opens the door and exits the vehicle without so much as a backward glance. "Luke!"
He doesn't stop walking, disappearing into the tree line just as the man opens the back door of the vehicle.
"Get out," he grunts, and all I can do is blink up at him. "Get out on your own or I'll get you out myself."
The warning is clear in his voice, and with shaking hands, I unclip my seatbelt and climb out of the car.
"He has trackers on the car," I explain.
"Lift your arms. Do you have any weapons?"
"Do I look like I’m carrying a fucking weapon?" I snarl but obey and lift my arms.
He proceeds to search me, a quick pat down and much less intrusive than the ones I've gotten at the airport.
"Trackers on the car," I repeat. "He probably already knows I'm here. He'll kill you for this."
The man stands to his full height. He's taller than me but he's not a massive block of muscle the way Luke is. He's less intimidating, but I know there are a lot more things a man can hurt me with than just his strength. Honestly, I'd be safer in the woods with a damn bear than this guy.
"We cleared the car," he says as he takes a step to the side. "He won't find you. You're safe. Let's get inside."
"I want to speak to Luke," I demand as I walk toward the front door of the cabin.
"I don't know a Luke," the man mutters as he follows closely behind me.
I grind my teeth in irritation, looking over my shoulder one last time toward the tree line before stepping inside the house.
Chapter 11
Jericho
There's no way I can be around that woman, but the long walk in the fucking woods doesn't help the way I was hoping it would.
I trust Jersey with her. I don't for one minute think that he'd do anything to hurt her, and I know we're safe here. There's no way for Damien to track her. We dismantled the trackers on the car and have a scrambler in the trunk. There's technology in the house that will keep him from pinging her phone to get her location. We've taken every cautionary step we could to extract her safely, but I didn't consider my own safety.
I didn't take into account how I would feel when I locked eyes with her, and I still haven't looked directly at her face. It was hard enough to focus on the task at hand by just seeing her in the rearview mirror. I'm so fucking fucked right now, and there's nothing that I can do but give in to the urge to go back to the cabin and try and fight this ache inside of me at having her near after so many years.
Was it fear that made her demand to be taken back to a man who hurt her? Has she been playing with my emotions through those emails? Does that even make sense if she thought I was dead?
There are a million questions running through my head, and I know that I could never get honest answers to any of them. I could spin my wheels for years and still not fully understand what makes that woman tick and what drives her choices, but being out in the cold, freezing my nuts off, doesn't benefit anyone.
I stop at the tree line, looking back at the small cabin. The girl I just knew I was going to marry one day is less than a hundred yards away, but she no longer belongs to me. Hell, I don't know that she ever really did after seeing how quickly she turned against me that day.
I lift my hand to my face. The scar has become a part of who I am. After the stitches were pulled from it, the gnarl of flesh having gone too long without treatment for it to be sewn together correctly, I embraced the wound. It was daily visible proof that trust isn't something that should ever be handed out freely. I had sympathy for Aspen Reese. I thought she was this perfect woman trapped in a horrible life she never asked for. We don't get to pick our family after all, but that ended up not being the case.