Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
My brother. Not the way I saw us reuniting, but then I never really planned on reuniting with him. I was ready to stay away forever.
“She’s in there?” he whispers once he reaches me, because there’s no time to talk things over now. He knows it and so do I, both of us creeping closer to the window so we can see what’s happening. She’s starting to stir, groaning softly while Deborah taunts her.
“That fucking bitch,” Colt whispers. “What are you thinking?”
“I’ll go around to the rear—there’s a door on the other side of the building. Can you see it from here?” I whisper. He nods, and I point to the entrance Dennis and Deborah used. “You distract them by going in through this door and I’ll take advantage.”
“Have you seen any weapons?” he asks, watching them.
“No, but I doubt they brought her here without one.”
“Okay. Wait, though.” His words bring me up short before I can sneak away. My mouth is opening, ready to ask why he wants to wait, when the sight of his right fist cocking back answers my question. Pain bursts to life in my jaw when he makes contact hard enough to send me stumbling backward.
But I keep my balance, remaining on my feet while touching a hand to my throbbing face. “I deserve that, I guess.”
“Damn right, you do.” He surprises me again, this time by taking hold of me and throwing his arms around me in a brief but fierce hug that fills a hole I didn’t know existed in what’s left of my heart. “Asshole.”
I deserve that, too. Before he can ask any questions or hit me again, I jog around the building, barely avoiding tripping over weeds growing up from the cracks in the pavement. From the looks of it, people have been using this place as shelter—there are bottles, fast food wrappers, even an old blood-stained mattress sticking out from under a tarp. It doesn’t seem like there’s anyone else here tonight, thankfully. We don’t want any witnesses.
“What do you think you’re doing with her?” Colt’s voice rings out inside a second before I reach the partly open door opposite where he’s standing. From the looks of it, Dennis and Deborah are shocked, frozen stiff, staring at him while Leni’s head moves from side to side, and her soft groans get a little louder.
“What, do you have a fucking tracking device planted on her?” Deborah demands.
“I told you this was a bad idea,” Dennis mutters before stepping up behind Leni. From where I’m standing, I can see him reach into his back pocket. The lantern light is enough to make out the metal gleam when he withdraws it. A knife. They’re going to cut her.
Leni gasps when he steps up behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to hold her still with the blade against her throat. “Get away from her,” Colt warns in a voice that trembles with rage.
“What are you gonna do about it?” Deborah demands with a high-pitched laugh. “Tonight we’re getting answers, once and for all.”
“Take a step, and I will open an artery,” Dennis promises. With his attention on Colt, I’m able to creep up slowly, silently, while Colt pretends I’m not here.
“She has nothing to do with any of this,” he insists. “You have a problem with me? Talk to me about it. Not her. She’s innocent.”
“And you’re not innocent?” Dennis asks. I’m only a few feet away now, and I see what needs to happen next. It’s all in front of me, crystal clear. My heartbeat slows, my breathing goes even. I’ve never been more prepared for anything.
He doesn’t realize what’s happening until I have a handful of his hair in my fist. There’s not even time for him to gasp in surprise or pain by the time I take his wrist in my other hand, the one holding the knife.
“What—?” That’s it. That’s all he has the chance to say before he buries the blade in his own neck, with my help.
Deborah spins around at the sound of his strangled gurgling. “Oh, my god!” she screams while I pull Dennis away from Leni, still holding onto him while he thrashes weakly.
“Don’t worry. You’ll get your turn,” I promise her before forcing Dennis to remove the knife from his flesh. Blood pours from the hole we created, splashing across Deborah’s dark hoodie, spraying her face.
From the corner of my eye, I see Colt rushing to Leni, untying her, helping her out of the chair. Right now, I’m more interested in the blood-soaked girl staring in horror as Dennis drops to the floor. She’s too shocked to move and too stupid to realize she’s looking at her own immediate future.
The blade is still coated with hot, sticky blood when I take the knife from Dennis’s hand. He presses that hand to his neck, but it’s no use. Every beat of his heart makes his life force pour from between his fingers, looking more like oil in the lantern’s light.