Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 422(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
If I were sober, I might’ve had a better shot of navigating this conversation.
As it was, I didn’t know what to say. So I didn’t say anything. I just laid my head on his shoulder.
Colby’s body tensed for a split second before he relaxed, lifting his arm so I could tuck myself comfortably into his side.
He was warm. He smelled of him. I felt encased. Safe. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was in the exact right place at the exact right time.
“I have always pretended I belong places,” I whispered drowsily. “I’m really good at pretending.” I sighed. “But I’ve never felt more like I belonged until I found this club.” My eyes were heavy. Colby was warm, and the booze was taking over. “I’ve never felt like I belonged until I found you.”
I didn’t even know I’d gone to sleep until I woke up, covered in a blanket, lying almost entirely on Colby, his arms tight around me, the sun rising.
That was the first time I slept with Colby.
And little did I know, it was the last time I’d feel safe and at peace.
TWO WEEKS LATER
Never go to a second location.
That’s like, True Crime 101. Everyone with even a scrap of common sense knew that your chances of survival went down drastically if you let your assailant take you to a second location.
You make a scene. You fight, scream. Especially if it’s in the daylight, if there are other people nearby. Killers are unlikely to want to be part of a scene, risk getting caught. Your chances of them hurting you are much lower, and even if you are injured, that’s preferable to whatever hideous bullshit they have planned at the second location. And once they got you to that location, your odds of making it out alive were slim to none.
I knew all of this. And maybe all of the victims who were ultimately killed knew this. But when the situation arose, I doubt anyone thought logically about things.
Plus, in my situation, the killer in question was a cop.
The sheriff, to be exact.
But I didn’t know that at first.
None of my spidey senses tingled when I pulled my car to the side of the road, the lights of his patrol car flashing behind me.
My mind was on other things. Namely how I’d crept off at dawn and left Colby sleeping in the middle of the desert. A dick move. But what else was I supposed to do? I woke up hungover, confused and scared of what I’d shared the night before.
Hence me running, avoiding him and trying to figure out what the fuck my plan was.
“You know, if you want another date with me, you could’ve just called,” I told the sheriff when he made it to my window. I smiled, pushing my sunglasses to the top of my head.
I was feigning interest, obviously. The date had been painful. The sheriff, though objectively attractive, was a total snooze. And way too much of a professional to let me get him drunk enough to pump him for info.
Nor was he interested in my many expert attempts to seduce him. Though he was strong, older and in a position of authority, he’d seemed almost … awkward on the date, stiffening and moving away from me whenever I got too close.
It had been a long time since the date, though, so I’d thought he’d be over it by now.
But bad dates tended to stick with you.
So not only did I have a bad date, but I had a guy who was obviously pissed about the bad date with the ability to give me traffic tickets.
The sheriff didn’t smile back at me, studying me coldly through his aviators. He looked handsome in them, he was a handsome dude. But now that I’d gotten to know his personality, he bored me.
“Do you know how fast you were going?” he asked in a flat tone.
I sighed. “No, but nowhere near fast enough if you could catch me.” I gave him a flirty, sexy wink.
“Speeding is not something to be so flippant about,” his lips were a grim line. “Someone could’ve been killed.”
I leaned slightly out of my car window to survey the desolate road we were on. Garnett wasn’t exactly a bustling metropolis, and we were outside of town proper. I’d been on a mission to find Violet the best baby gift. I was, after all, going to be the best aunt to the little sucker, spoiling him or her with expensive and totally inappropriate gifts.
“I think we’re good,” I told him as I slowly trailed a pink nail along my chest.
Apparently, he was not amused. “Can you get out of the car, please?”
I gaped at him. “Seriously, dude? I was going a smidge over the limit. Don’t you think you’ve got better things to do? Like catch a serial killer?”