Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Oh God. Every second I spent with Jack sent me deeper down the rabbit hole. “How?”
“Do you want my assistance? Yes or no, Jeni.”
“So now you’re offering to help me?” A few minutes ago, he’d been threatening me.
“Not help. Trade. Your compliance in exchange for your father’s safety.”
He got me into this fucking mess, and now he was using my father’s well-being as leverage. I couldn’t believe this.
“Everything in this world comes with a price,” he added darkly.
“So let me get this straight: You don’t know who you are. You think you rose from the dead, and you claim you can protect my father from a woman who wants to find me to get to you.”
“Yes.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, but how do I know you’re not just making this up to keep me under your thumb?” Not like I can trust him.
“I saved your fucking life, Miss Arnold. Twice. What is not to trust?”
“Everything.”
“If I wished to harm you, I would have done so by now.”
Says the man who—I suddenly noted a shrinking sensation in my chest. My need to hide from the world was trying to make a comeback.
“No. Do not retreat into old patterns now, Jeni. You were not born to be a timid mouse, afraid of every foot that crosses your path. These last few hours are proof of it.”
He was right, in a way. I hadn’t even thought about running and hiding since that moment in the police station when I heard the voice and something clicked inside me. But I attributed it to the chaos of the situation. I wasn’t the strong and defiant type. “I’m—I’m…” I faced forward. “Forget it.”
“You will see.”
I hated this arrogant man and his cryptic ways. I hated him more than I hated people.
“You do not hate me,” he said. “You fear me. As you should. However, when it comes to the rest of the world, it is they who should fear you.”
Yeah. Right. For a stranger who claimed to have amnesia, he made some pretty bold statements.
“I said that I do not recall who I am, not what.”
“And what exactly are you?” I snapped. “Because I’d sure as hell like to know.”
He glanced my way, keeping a tight grip on the steering wheel. I noticed he wore a thick gold band with a diamond embedded in it on his index finger. “A man who has been wronged.”
How does he know that but doesn’t know who he is? The guy was playing games.
He fell silent for the longest time, the sound of sloppy raindrops pelting the windshield. Oddly, it reminded me of popcorn cooking in the microwave.
Finally, he said, “The emptiness inside my chest. It feels as though my soul has been ripped out, like the entire world could be shoved inside the hole and it would not come close to filling it.”
My heart squeezed inside my chest. I knew that pain. I knew it so well that it had left a permanent stain on my soul. It tainted the lens through which I saw the world, like a fog made from a thick layer of scar tissue.
I said nothing after that, because what I felt couldn’t entirely be explained with words. In a split second, I went from fearing this man to wanting to help him. Without reason, his need for answers was my need. His need for revenge was mine. Something was pushing me from the inside.
No, I didn’t understand.
Not yet.
But I would.
Sooner than I was ready for.
Jack and I made it to the motel with half a tank of gas. Per his request, I gave him the room key, and he went on ahead while I asked the manager about where to buy gas and some real food. I wasn’t exactly clear why Jack insisted I go out in the rain on this fact-finding mission, but the part of me that wanted to resist him was fading fast.
Whatever was happening, whoever he really was, something deep inside was pulling on me like the strings of a puppet. I couldn’t explain. But Jack was right about one thing: I’d forgotten my fear this afternoon, and now I was shedding my old self like an old ratty coat.
Stupid. Insane. Ridiculous. My thoughts were all those, but nothing trumped the gnawing in my gut that kept nudging me forward.
After a brief conversation with the motel manager, I found out that the gas station down the road had fuel, though they were only allowing ten gallons per customer. The Red Cross was set up across town and might have some food, but all of the restaurants and grocery stores were still closed. One of the food banks down the way was giving out some supplies, but unfortunately, without a kitchen, we’d have to make do with granola bars until we reached Tallahassee.