Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Dutch slows his pace as we near the train, and even though it’s crowded, I notice people jump out of his way when they see him coming. A few women even stop to check him out, and maybe if he hadn’t kidnapped me I might find him attractive too.
“Don’t worry, ladies, he’ll probably kidnap you too one day.” I smile at them, but clearly they think I’m crazy because they shake their heads at me.
He stops suddenly, but my feet are still moving and I run right into his oversized body. I bounce back, but I don't fall as he grabs a hold of me and keeps me steady. He stares down at me and then his brow furrows.
“Sorry, I keep forgetting how little you are.”
Did he really apologize to me? This has to be the world's strangest kidnapping.
His hands tighten around me, and I’m frozen in place as he leans down. The closer he gets, the faster my heart beats, and I lick my lips. My breath catches in my lungs when I feel something that has to be a third leg pressing hard against my stomach.
“I have my documents, but know this, no one is going to take you from me. If they try, you’ll be responsible for what I have to do.” He pulls back. “Got it?”
I nod my head. Those women we passed didn’t even believe me. They thought I was messing with them, and honestly I kind of was. I watched how easily Dutch handled Brock, and it took nothing to subdue him.
When Dutch begins walking again, we go down a long walkway and then step onto the train. We pass a few doors before he opens one and pushes me inside. He quickly closes the door behind us, and I try to look anywhere but at him.
The room is small with a bench on each side facing each other and a single window to see out. Dutch reaches up and pulls the curtains closed, blocking out the rest of the world.
“When we start moving they’ll come through for our tickets and passports.” I drop down into the seat, and he takes the one across from me. I watch as he pulls out a folder and places it beside him.
The conductor makes a final call before the train jerks and starts to move. I’m surprised when my eyes fill with tears. I’ve been so calm for most of the travel, but knowing we’re leaving the country makes it final.
He did it. He’s gotten away without anyone catching up to us.
He pulls out two American passports and places them on top of the folder. I wipe at my cheeks as a few tears slip away.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says gently.
His voice still manages to sound gruff, but something about it makes me believe him. He’s been kind when he could have been cruel, and part of me thinks he actually believes what he’s telling me. He sees this as him doing the right thing.
“I love my parents.”
“Even if they kidnapped you?” he challenges.
I nod. I’m close with my dad, and I know my mom cares for me even if she doesn’t show it. But her trying to marry me off to Brock was too far. At the end of the day, what she wants always overrides what I want. It doesn't matter that I’m an adult; she will always try to control my life in one way or another.
“I can't flip a switch and turn it off. That’s not how love works. Even if everything you’re saying is true, I’ll miss them and want to see them.” I swipe at my cheeks as more tears start to fall. I lower my chin and look down at my hands, silently wishing once again for this to be a dream.
“Shit,” I hear him grumble.
A moment later, he pulls me to the bench he’s sitting on and wraps an arm around me. The fact that he’s being so nice only makes me cry more. I don’t understand any of this, and the confusion is adding to my emotional breakdown.
“I have no idea how love works, but I can’t take you back to them. At least not yet.”
“Yet?” I jerk my head up, and my eyes meet his.
“Let’s say what I’m telling you is true. You don’t want to meet your real parents?”
“I don’t know.” It’s not something I considered, and a barrage of emotions takes over inside of me. It’s too much to understand, so I fight it. “It’s not true, so it doesn’t matter. This is crazy.”
He starts to say something else, but there’s a knock at the door before someone calls out for tickets, and it slides open.
“Tickets?” the short man asks.
Dutch lifts me off his bench and puts me back over on the other one. He hands the man some papers and then the two American passports. The train guy goes through the papers then shoves one into his pocket before handing Dutch the tickets back.