Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
I scoot across the seat, kicking my feet at him, making contact with his chest and shoulders. “Fucking bitch,” he yelps before clasping my ankle and dragging me across the seat and out of the car like I’m weightless. A whoosh of air washes over me as my back hits the dirt, pain shooting up my spine. I manage to keep my head from slamming against the ground as he drags me, tiny rocks scraping into my flesh and shredding my shirt. Kitty’s shirt.
A strangled scream rips from my lungs. I dislodge from his hold and scramble onto my hands and knees, attempting to flee. He’s on me instantly, his weight straddling my back and knocking the wind from me. Lungs burning, eyes streaming, I thrash back and forth, trying to get him off me. A hand wraps in my hair. My head pulls taunt almost snapping my damn neck. “Stop fighting, and I’ll let you up.”
My battle cry dies inside me. I nod, fearful he’ll kill me if I don’t. He lifts his weight, and I suck oxygen into my lungs. Gripping my hair tighter, he wrenches me to my feet, making me whimper.
My ribs howl in agony as he slams my back against the car and surrounds me, trapping me with his body. “Spears said you spent the night with Cox?” He’s so close, I trace every wrinkle on his face with my gaze. Dark circles act as a cushion for his dull, dead eyes. Stale sweat drenches the air around him like an aura.
“Yeah, and?”
Grabbing my jaw, he pushes my gums into my teeth until they puncture the flesh and blood fills my mouth. I yelp, trying to shake him off me. My heart sprints in my chest. “And I think you’re full of shit. Last night, we have you on surveillance camera near the Motel Motor Inn.”
“So?” I breathe anxiously as he loosens his hold on my jaw. “That’s where I’m staying. I met Callan close to there and we went back to the club.” Warm rivets of blood dribbles from my lips, coating his hand.
“Did you go to Ray’s?” His spit sprays my face, the overwhelming scent of whisky burning my nostrils. His other hand clenches the material of my shirt, pushing his knuckles into my tit.
“No. It was closed by the time we met up.” Ray’s doesn’t have cameras. The only one they could have picked me up on is the camera at the crosswalk, but that doesn’t show Ray’s bar.
“Did Cox leave the club last night at any point?”
“No.” I heave, finding it hard to draw breath. My gaze darts around our surroundings, trying to devise a plan of escape. But I have nothing, I can’t think.
Breathe, just breathe.
“Hey.” He releases my shirt and jabs me in the gut, making my legs go weak with the need to bend over and ease the throbbing pulsating through my abdomen. “Did you fall asleep? Could you have missed him leaving?” the pads of his fingers dig into my skin making my teeth rattle.
“No.” I sob, attempting to shake my head, hoping he will take pity on me.
“You’re fucking lying. I know it was him.” Releasing my jaw, he clenches his hand into a fist and punches me in the side of my face. My head whips sideways, sending searing pain through my cheekbone. My brain fuzzes, eyes dotting with darkness. He reaches behind him and produces a gun, digging the barrel into the cheek he just hit. “Why are you protecting a killer? He killed my boys. I fucking know it.”
Sweat beads all over my body. I need to escape. Run. Fight. Survive.
Help me. The two words drum in my brain.
“Maybe you’re more than a club whore if you’re meeting at night. That’s why you’d lie for him.” Some of his words slur, but he’s still strong and coherent despite being intoxicated. He pushes the gun harder into my face making me cry out. He’s going to kill me.
“Please,” I beg.
Sliding the gun down my cheek across my lips, he forces it into my mouth, his glassy eyes lighting up. He likes this.
My muffled cries hum around the steel barrel until he drives it so far back that I gag around it, my body convulsing.
“Fuck,” he cusses, yanking it out of my mouth and pushing me off the car and into the dirt. I skid on the gravel tearing open my skin. Rearing his leg back he kicks his boot into my stomach. “Just tell me what I want to know.” He aims the gun down at me as I cough and wheeze.
“Please,” I repeat, trembling, raising a hand in hopes he will show some mercy. My vision blurs I search my mind for a plan to get me out of this, but my brain won’t cooperate.