Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Holden pushed in front of her, plugging a quick code into the keypad, making the door grumble open, piercingly loud in such a silent space.
"Come on," he demanded, moving inside, leaving her to fall behind.
Where she found, well, a gym.
There was an unyielding cement floor with a nearly paper-thin mat covering part of it, a weight bench, bike, kettlebells, a pull-up bar, leg press, and various punching and speed bags. Everything was familiar, yet she found them oddly intimidating in this space. Maybe because she knew she would have to prove herself, would need to impress him.
"Gym. Self-explanatory. We'll be spending a lot of time here."
His words almost sounded like a threat.
Maybe they were.
"There's a room back here," he told her, leading her through a door toward the back.
It was a small space, all of eight by ten with bare walls and one small, grime-covered window.
"Light," he said, reaching up, pulling a string hanging in the middle of the room, making a bare Edison bulb flash to life, highlighting the dust bunnies along the walls, the webs in the ceiling corners. "Bed," he added, moving forward, grabbing a thin mattress that had been propped against the wall, dropping it down on the floor, kicking up all the dust and dirt in the room. "Can," he went on, waving an arm toward her side, making her gaze shift, finding a toilet and sink combination reminiscent of a prison situated there. "Nothing fancy here, kid. You can't rough it, get lost now."
While a part of her absolutely did cringe at the idea of using her bedroom as a bathroom as well, she understood that luxuries would no longer be a part of the life ahead of her if she continued on this path.
She would have to learn to be okay with a lot of things her pampered former self took for granted.
"Better than digging a hole in the woods," she told him, seeing that little twitch at his lips again. "Shower, though?" she asked.
"Got a tap," he told her, motioning to the toilet/sink combo. "Hose out back. Stream down a ways through the woods. You'll manage."
She would, she vowed to herself.
Because somewhere in the world—many places in the world—there were women living in hellish conditions with no hope of escape, waiting for someone to save them. Given some time, given some experience, she could be that person.
"Yo," Holden growled, shocking her out of her thoughts, turning to find him once again in the doorway as though he was going to leave her. "This door," he said when he got her attention, "this stays locked when you are in here."
"Ah, okay," she said, brows furrowing.
"Not just closed, locked," he went on, pointing to the lock.
"What? Do you have super smart bears in these woods who can plug in door codes and turn door knobs?" she asked, smiling.
"There are worse things in these woods than bears, kid," he said, turning, leaving, slamming the door in his wake.
Even knowing it was coming, she jolted at the slam, feeling something inside do the same thing.
He hadn't outwardly said it, but she knew what he meant. He meant that he was the thing in the woods that she should fear.
Her stomach flip-flopped at that realization, wondering in what way he might mean, in what way he could be a danger to her, something she hadn't even started to consider on her way to find him.
She knew he could teach her to defend herself from men.
But what about from him?
Rushing across the room, she turned the lock, then told herself that she would also find something to use to further secure herself. Especially when she was sleeping at night. Because she knew a man as big as Holden could make short work of a simple wooden door.
With nothing else to do, she yanked open the window, then dropped down on the bed, resolving herself to an empty stomach.
It was nothing new.
She'd been starved before.
She had survived.
As soon as she got some time to think, to rest, then she would find a way to get food.
Suddenly, she wished she'd taken her uncles up on offers to learn to fish. Even if she hated the smell and taste of seafood.
She would figure it all out.
That was what she had to do.
Rely on herself.
Become independent.
Make do.
"Grub," Holden's voice grumbled through the door, making her heart shoot up into her throat.
Before she could even draw in a breath to steel herself, she could hear his footsteps clomping away, the grind of the garage door closing once again.
She made her way across the floor, unlocking the door, finding a tray, an actual bright blue school cafeteria plastic tray.
With blessed food piled on it.
A simple white throwaway dish loaded down with grilled chicken, peas, and a plain sweet potato. Not a hint of seasoning. But it might as well have been a decadent gourmet meal.