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)
There it is.
The tracker Xander implanted in her when she was a kid.
Little did he know the favor he would be doing me later on. After Q accidentally mentioned the tracker years ago, I made it my business to hack the software used to handle the information.
Without the presence of this tiny piece of hardware, I wouldn’t have had such an easy time tracking her around campus. I smile into the air. I wish I could see his reaction when he realizes he’s not as smart as he thinks.
I ease the bit of metal from her shoulder, then lean over to roll down the window before throwing the device out onto the road. If it isn’t crushed by the weight of a passing vehicle, I’m sure it will be lost just the same. Like looking for a needle in a haystack.
“Once we’re at the cabin, everything will be fine. It’s so far away; nobody, not your pesky father, or overbearing brother, no one will be able to find us.” I tell her once it’s over, my lips brushing her mud-streaked temple. “We’ll finally be happy, the way we were always meant to be. I’ll finally have my queen beside me.”
13
SCARLET
“That’s right. Come back to me. I’ve missed you so much…”
I must be dreaming. That’s Ren’s voice; I’d know it anywhere. His voice is so clear, much more so than when I usually dream about him.
“I’ve been aching for you all this time.”
That’s how I know I’m dreaming. He’s saying all the things I’ve longed to hear. How he yearns for me and all that. I smile a little, squeeze my eyes shut tighter than ever, and intend to fall back into the dream threatening to fade away the closer I venture to consciousness.
If only something wasn’t tapping at the back of my mind…something I need to be careful of…a warning that isn’t clear.
“Scarlet? Are you awake?”
My heart skips a beat once reality comes crashing down.
The storm. The garden. Wrestling in the mud. With Ren.
How could I forget?
The shock of the memory makes me open my eyes, and right away, the strange surroundings add a new layer of surprise and confusion to what I’m already wrestling with.
Gone are the soft colors of my bedroom at home, and along with them, the pile of pillows on my bed. The walls surrounding me are sanded wood, bare of any decoration, and the bed underneath me is little more than a thin mattress. I can feel springs pressing against my back through the rough sheets. Ren’s scent surrounds me, lulling me to calmness.
He didn’t take me into the house. He didn’t even leave me in the garden. He brought me somewhere else.
But he’s here… with me.
Which is what makes me turn my head on the pillow, leaving me looking into a face I’ve prayed for with every breath I’ve drawn in the past two years.
“Ren? Is it really you?”
“Who else, angel?” A shiver of pleasure races through me, waking up parts of me I was sure were dead. Numb, cold, dark. It’s like he flipped a switch, and suddenly, the world is full of light again.
And yet.
It sounds like Ren. It looks like Ren.
But there’s something else. Some other quality I can’t put my finger on. Something’s missing.
Right, and it was missing in the garden, wasn’t it? Why is my head so foggy? I can’t put it together. I only know I was afraid. Willing to hit, kick, and scream if it meant getting away from him.
He’s always been able to see through me.
“I understand your confusion—even fear. I’m not taking it personally. I dropped out of your life for years and suddenly reappeared in front of you. I’m sure you’re feeling a number of emotions, but I meant what I said back there. You never have to be afraid of me.”
Easy for him to say. It’s like an old movie I once watched with Mom and Adela, where the people in a small town were replaced by aliens who looked and sounded just like them. It was human feeling that was missing. There was no warmth behind the familiar words, no compassion or kindness.
I must be going out of my mind. There’s no such thing.
Chuckling, he runs a hand over his stubbled jaw before standing and going to a small window opposite the foot of the bed. I follow his progress, taking in the rest of the bedroom. A small dresser and armoire occupy the wall to my left, the double bed pushed up against the wall to the right, and a basket of dirty laundry in the corner, telling me he didn’t just get here today.
Outside the window, all that can be seen is trees and brief glimpses of blue sky visible between the leaves. He stands with his back to me, hands in his pockets, his broad shoulders almost filling the width of the frame. His too-long dark brown hair brushes the collar of a black T-shirt that’s seen better days. There’s nobody taking care of him, least of all himself, that much is for sure.