Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
His fingertips dance over my skin and make me shudder in revulsion. “So pretty,” he whispers. He even lowers his head a little, like he’s going to kiss my foot, but stops himself.
The second he’s finished, I place my foot on the floor. The socks are good and thick. I only hope they give me enough protection.
He’s still on one knee, looking up at me with that adoring expression on his weathered face.
And I reach for the knife block.
He’s halfway to his feet when I wrap my fingers around the handle and pull it free. “What—”
There’s no time. I can’t even decide where to strike. I can only bring the knife down in a wide arc, slicing through his worn flannel shirt across his right shoulder in a diagonal line down to his ribs.
He falls back a few steps, stumbling against the fridge, staring down at himself. “What did you do?” he gasps, covering his chest with both hands as the blood starts to flow. “Why?”
Then he snarls, lifts his head, and lets out a roar. “How dare you?” he bellows.
And then he lunges at me.
Which means I lodge the butcher knife in his stomach.
The wet, squelching noise unlocks what I’ve been holding back since last night, and I scream. I scream until my voice breaks. He grabs me with his blood-coated hands and drops to his knees, almost pulling me down with him before he lets go to grab the knife handle.
I don’t think. I run for the door, flipping the rusty old lock and pulling it open. The sky is starting to get light on the horizon. There’s a path through the woods left by his tires. My heart almost bursts when I see it. The road must be at the other end.
“You’re... going to... regret that.”
A glance behind me makes me scream again. He’s actually getting to his feet. His face is a twisted mask of pure rage.
There’s nothing I can do but take off running. I feel the stones and sticks under my feet, but ignore them, legs pumping, lungs ready to burst. I only have to follow the path. Make it to the road. I just have to get to the road.
“Allie!” The sound cuts through the air, through the screaming in my head.
That, and the shotgun blast that follows it. Something whizzes past my ear close enough to stir my hair. I’m too exposed. I can’t take the path. Another shot, and bark explodes off a tree not ten feet beyond me. My only choice is to get off the path and run through the woods instead.
Now I have to be more careful. I’m swallowed up by the trees but unable to see where I’m going. I have to throw my arms out to fend off the twigs and brambles that rake me. Rocks and sticks under my feet, cutting through the socks, but it’s the sounds coming from behind me that keep me moving. Like an animal stumbling its way through the woods. Wounded, clumsy. “Allie!”
Faster! I will myself to keep moving, so I ignore the pain, the burning in my lungs, and the scrapes and scratches. An exposed root trips me up, and I stumble against an old trunk, but push myself off. He’s going to kill me. I have to keep going.
“Goddamn you!” He must be losing blood, right? But he sounds closer all the time, almost like he’s right over my shoulder. I take the risk of slowing down to look behind me and catch a glimpse of a shape back there. It’s a little easier to see now that the sky is starting to get lighter. I don’t even know where the path is anymore. I’m so far from it that I can’t see it. I might be running in circles.
Finally, all I can do is crouch behind a thick pine whose hanging branches give me a little bit of cover. He’ll get tired, right? Too weak from blood loss. He’ll give up. He has to.
He’s coming closer, those clumsy, stumbling footsteps getting louder. I have to run! He’s going to find me!
That’s when headlights wash over him from the path.
Headlights.
My heart’s in my throat. Cold sweat clings to my skin. Is it…? Could it be…?
The truck comes to a stop. Buck is partly visible in the headlights’ glow, pointing in this direction through the trees. It’s just enough that I can see him, leaning against one of them, breathing hard, grunting as he raises the rifle.
He’s going to fire. Not at me, but at whoever’s getting out of that truck. The door slams, the sound carrying my way and somehow cutting through the pounding in my ears.
“Fuck! There’s a blood trail!”
Kade. It’s Kade! He came for me. He didn’t give up. I can just see him now, standing in the doorway of the shack I ran from. Tears pour down my cheeks, and I’ve never loved him more than at this moment. He must have worked all night to find me.