Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
“Sara?”
“I’m okay,” I groan in pain.
“What’s wrong?” He asks but doesn’t turn around to look at me.
How do I explain?
I don’t know about other people, but I don’t exactly go to the restroom regularly when I’m not home. I’m not talking about peeing. When the time to tinkle comes, there isn’t a way to hold that for long. All the women in my family are like this. We don’t poop anywhere but home.
Except I haven’t been home in days.
While I haven’t eaten much, I have eaten and my body seems to be revolting about my circumstance. But he’s a stranger, how do I tell him, I’m constipated?
Maybe he doesn’t have these kinds of issues and will think I’m playing things up. It’s agony when I’m backed up though. I have to relax to get through it and I can’t relax because hello, he’s taken me from everything! I fight back tears as the anxiety and pain in my belly mix making things even worse.
This is all ridiculous.
“Today is the day, Sara. The transport should happen.” He attempts to comfort me. “You’ll be home with Country Boy soon.”
Home? With Country Boy? Ha. I won’t ever be home with him. Once I get out of this, he’s part of my past. Nope, no need to have another ride with him if this is how it ends up for me.
“I just want to go to my house,” I almost whisper. I can admit, I’m losing the battle in my mind as the pain continues in my belly.
The comfort of my bathroom with the cow print rugs and the barn door shower curtain. My space with my dogs, cats, chickens, and Matilda. Even the thought of milking her in a damn hurricane or freezing rain is better than being here.
I like my life, all of it, even the mundane.
“Can I get you some water?” He asks with this softness to his tone I had not previously encountered.
“How many days have we been gone?” I ask as I clean up and wash my hands knowing that I can’t relieve my cramps here. Regardless of the pain, my body isn’t going to go. My arms are in a continual state of numbness, no need to sit on the toilet so long my legs and feet are tingling too.
“Three, we made it to Texas. We’re not far from the compound. Once I get the confirmation about the shipment, I can take you to Hydro. He has to see what we did for the club.”
Three days? Has he slept? Sleep deprivation makes people insane. Is that why he talks to himself? His back is to me, so I keep the water running as I continuing wash9ing my hands. “Who is Hydro?” I inquire hoping I can continue the conversation and better assess my situation.
“He’s the president of the DreamCatchers MC. I’ve been prospecting.”
Leave it to me, I was listening to a fictional DreamCatchers MC series and boom I’ve poofed into a DreamCatchers nightmare!
I’ve heard of this, prospecting stuff in books that is, but I don’t actually know it. Plus, it’s all fiction, make believe. Nothing I’ve read is reliable to take as reality. Since he’s willing to share, I continue my inquisition. “What’s that?”
He laughs, “Your man hasn’t given you the rules. To get your cut, you gotta pay your dues. What those Hellions do is their business, every club has their own thing. Hydro never really gave us the time of day. Really, the officers don’t much fuck with the prospects. We’re gonna make them see though, they aren’t better than us. We’ve spent time trying to show them how loyal we can be. What an asset we are.”
“So you aren’t actually in the club?”
He turns to face me over his shoulder, “We feel tied to it, soul deep we are DreamCatchers. But fuckin’ Cobra stepped in and voted us out. He’ll see though, the lengths we will go to for the club. We’re gonna be the first ones to get a second chance. That whole one vote lands you out permanently isn’t going to count for us. Cobra will see.”
The way he keeps saying we, I’m beginning to think this man is unhinged. There is no one else here. Just me and him. For days though, he talks to himself and it’s always we to describe himself. He even answers himself to different names.
I should have paid more attention in those early psychology classes in college. It didn’t hold my attention and clearly I’m ill-prepared for this shit. Although, I’m learning things even if I have zero clue how to help this man or even read him to figure out what may come next.
Apparently, I’m in Texas. This is good to know. I don’t exactly know my way around Texas like I would back home in North Carolina, but if I can get to a bus station or airport, I can get home. I’ll call Carrie, she’ll pay for my ticket. Except I don’t know where I am in Texas much less where to find a bus station or airport. I don’t think one of those share-ride companies will take on getting me back to the coast either. I have to find out more. Any information can change the course of everything.