Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
I keep walking in the direction of the house and flip the lids to the tanks the moment I set foot inside the door. I pour the liquid along the floors, trailing it down the stairs to the basement, and through the narrow corridors. I can't stop the memories forcing their way into my mind. Fuck! I take a breath and keep going, focusing my attention on the sound of the gas as it splatters onto the floor. I come to the weapons room. All that Marney left in here is the box of explosives in the corner. I trail a line of gas over to it and dump the rest of one can inside the wooden crate.
I leave, dripping the remaining fuel onto the driveway before I throw the can down on the yard. I hear Marney start the engine.
"Go ahead and put it in reverse," I shout as I flick the flint to the lighter. I hold the flame in front of my face and stare at the house. I hesitate because I'm about to burn down everything I own, I am about to obliterate any tangible memories I have to the person I am. I swallow as I bend over and hold the flame to the fluid. I back away, watching the blaze snake up the stairs and engulf the front door before I rush to the car and climb in.
The tires squeal as Marney backs out. He pulls off before I manage to shut the door. We speed down the long driveway and fishtail out onto the dirt road. Moments later a loud boom rattles the windows of the car, and an orange glow reflects from the windshield. Tor slides her small hand into mine and squeezes. Leaning my head back against the seat, I close my eyes, rhythmically stroking my thumb over her wrist. That subtle touch somehow calms me, reminding me why I'm doing this. For her, for us.
"Where are we going now?" she quietly asks.
"To Marney's place in the mountains until we find Joe, then we're leaving for good." I turn to look at her, but she keeps her eyes trained out the window. All she does is nod.
By the time we reach the chalet, Tor is passed out, asleep on my lap.
I carefully lift her as I climb out of the car and carry her straight up to the bedroom. I tug the covers back and gently lay her down. When I turn to leave, her fingers cling to my shirt, and her eyes flutter open. "Stay," she whispers.
I stroke a stray piece of hair from her face. "I will, doll. I just need to wash this gas off of me real quick." I press my lips to her forehead before I pull away to leave the room.
I rush through a shower, not wanting to leave her alone too long. I dry off, pull on a pair of boxers and climb into bed. I wrap my arms around her and drag her body close to mine. I cling to her like she's fucking life itself as I breathe in her familiar scent. Having her against me like this causes my muscles to relax automatically. She is the only thing in my life that has ever felt right. It's fucked up, and it's wrong, but I love her. She's fucking everything.
Hands pin me down, restraining me as he leans over me. "Victoria, you know fighting is useless." He presses his disgusting cock against me. "I'll only hurt you more." His face contorts into a grimace as he rips into me. I clench my teeth against the pain, the invasion, the degradation.
I feel his fingers wrap around my chin.
"Wake up, Tor."
I jump awake, a hand is still on my face, deep breaths blowing against my cheek. I thrust my hand under my pillow and am grateful when my fingers brush the cool metal of the gun. I grab it and twist away from him, pulling the gun up in front of me. I can only make out a shadowy figure in the darkness.
"Stay the fuck away from me!" I shout, clicking the safety off. My hands shake, my palms are slick with sweat as adrenaline and fear course through my veins. All I can hear is the pounding of my frantic pulse in my ears.
"Whoa, Tor! I'm not gonna fucking hurt you. Put the gun down."
I count each of my laboured breaths, in and out, in and out. I frown as reality and dream blur and then pull apart. Jude. It's Jude. Oh, my God, I almost shot him! I scramble backwards until my trembling legs touch the ground, and then I run. Why? I don't know. I just can't face him. I find a bathroom down the hall and lock myself inside it.
I just want Joe out. I want him out of my head. I slide down the wall until the cold tile of the floor bites against the backs of my thighs and tears roll down my cheeks. I said I would get revenge. I said I would hunt him down for Caleb, but how long must I survive this? Jude might have rescued me, but I will never be free. Joe is always there, waiting to torment me. He's won because even after he is dead and buried, he will still be right here in my mind.