Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I flail, running my hands over the couch, pounding at his shoulders, clawing at his face, but I might as well be fighting air. Air that’s now in short supply. My lungs are burning, the pressure building in my head until I know it will explode; there’s no way it won’t.
I’m dying. He’s going to kill me and my baby.
Our baby. My poor Ren.
But this isn’t Ren.
And I’m not dying here today.
In a last-ditch effort, I throw my arm behind me, my hand flailing around in search of something, anything before I lose consciousness.
I’m already starting to, my vision becoming hazy and spotty.
“I should’ve got rid of you earlier.”
My fingers close around an object. Something heavy, solid. There’s no time to be indecisive. Maybe that’s what gives me the strength to swing my arm up, the lamp firmly in my grip, before bringing it crashing down against Ren’s skull.
It’s like magic. All at once, the pressure is gone, the world coming back into focus as I suck in as much air as my lungs will hold. He groans, then tumbles off the couch and lands on the floor.
A trickle of blood runs from the side of his head and onto the wood beneath him. Coughing, I sit up, rubbing at my throat.
He’s out cold, but his chest continues to rise and fall. Even now, having come so close to taking my last breath, I don’t want to kill him.
Ren is still in there somewhere.
But I can’t afford to wait around for him to show up again.
As soon as my head is clear, I jump to my feet and run for the door—only to look back at him, thinking about the Jeep. The keys, where are the keys? In my mind’s eye, I see him taking them from his back pocket, the way he’s done so many times. Do I have a chance of rolling him over to grab them before he comes to? No, I can’t take that chance. I already came close enough.
If he wakes up and still thinks he’s River, I won’t stand a chance of surviving.
Instead, I fling the door open and take off at a run. The cool air is a shock to my sweaty, overheated skin while the bright sunlight leaves me squinting until I’m swallowed by the shadows of the trees.
How long will he be unconscious?
How long do I have? The idea of him catching me gets my feet moving faster, carrying me down the worn path leading to the main road. It’s maybe half a mile away, but it might as well be ten or twenty.
Keep going, keep moving. He could be behind me at any second. I have to get to the main road. I have to get there before he comes to and follows me.
Dammit, I should have taken the Jeep, but it’s too late now. I’m already halfway there, ignoring the stitch in my side in favor of running for my life—and my baby’s.
I am so sorry.
I’m so sorry this is happening.
I promise I’ll get you out of this.
Even if I don’t quite know how yet. I only know I need help.
He’s River, and he’s Ren. How didn’t I see it?
I can’t not think about it, the memories overlapping like snippets of a gruesome horror movie. The dark screen. I explained that one away, didn’t I? Just like everything else—the fact that I never saw him, never spoke to him, never heard his voice. Or that I’d never even heard of him before this, in all the years he was so close with my brother, with the entire family.
When I first woke up, after he brought me here. I knew something was off. How could I have been this blind? I even told myself he was like an alien from that old movie, didn’t I? My feet slow in their relentless pounding of the ground, my body threatening to give up under the weight of my self-hatred.
Walking around in Ren’s body but without Ren’s soul.
Because he wasn’t Ren. He was River, and River hates me. River wants revenge, and nothing will stop him.
If I don’t haul ass, I’ll be the one he gets his revenge on. I can think about all of this later when there’s time to sit around and blame myself for all the little hints I missed.
And I will. I’ll blame myself until the day I die.
A rumble up ahead leaves hope exploding in my chest, and it’s enough to carry me the last few hundred yards until I burst out onto the shoulder of the two-lane highway. A passing truck, well beyond me now.
Still, it’s a sign of life. Somebody’s bound to come up soon.
I throw a wild, panicked look over my shoulder, relieved that there’s no sign of Ren or River following me. He might still be unconscious, for all I know. I did hit him pretty hard. Guilt blooms in my chest.