Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Who? The guys planning your murder? Trust me, they’ll notice a lot less if you’re not around to testify.”
I glare at her, but she isn’t wrong. “Where would I even go?”
“Montana,” she says as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. When I frown at her, she sighs and sits down on the edge of my bed, motioning at the duffel beside her while she settles in with her coffee. “Just pack, would you?”
“Fine.” She has that look on her face that says I’m not winning this argument. As a hairstylist, it’s a look she’d perfected, most recently when I’d told her last night that we ought to dye my hair purple. “I’ve never even been to Montana. What am I supposed to pack?”
“Whatever can fit in that bag,” she says firmly. “Just make sure it’s warm. The bus leaves in a couple of hours, so we need to hurry, and you can’t be bogged down by too much stuff. It’ll make you stand out.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “How many spy movies have you watched in the last forty-eight hours?”
“Enough to know that you need to wear some sort of disguise and that you can’t have anything with you a regular traveler wouldn’t carry.”
“It’s the mob, not the NSA.”
“You’re right, and that should scare the crap out of you.” She leans forward and opens a drawer in my dresser, tossing a beanie at me before going back for a pile of tank tops. “Just pack. You’ve got five minutes before I shave your head and call it a makeover for your disguise.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s assault,” I mutter, but I stuff the tank tops into the duffel on top of whatever she’s already packed in there.
After that, I drop in a handful of bras, a few pairs of jeans, some socks, underwear, and pajamas, and by then the duffel is bulging. Shoving in the only good jacket I own on top of everything else, I prop my knee on the bag to force it all down while she tugs at the zipper.
She looks up at me with worry shining clear as day in her big brown eyes. “Put the beanie on. Between that and the god-awful box dye, not even I would recognize you on security camera footage.”
I groan. “We’ve been over this. When they described me in that kitchen, they referred to me as a blonde girl. I might not know what other information they’ve got about me, but I do know that, so I had to change it.”
“Yeah, but you could’ve come to the salon so I could do it properly, and there are better colors than box brown.”
“Box brown is nondescript,” I remind her, jamming the beanie over my head as instructed.
As I turn to pick up the duffel, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, and I barely recognized myself. The beanie, the hair, and the oversized navy hoodie that completely hides my curves work together to make me look like an entirely different person.
That’s the point, I suppose. I don’t have to like it, though.
“Okay.” I turn away from my reflection with a very deliberate spin and sling the bag over my shoulder. “Where exactly am I going?”
“My family has a cabin just outside of Silver Ridge. You’re lucky my uncle never convinced my dad to sell it. The place has power, running water, and enough canned food to survive an apocalypse. We haven’t been out there for years, so you might have to clean up a bit, but you’ll be safe there.”
“In Montana,” I say flatly. “With the bears, and the nature, and stuff.”
She gives me a look. “You said you wished you could just go somewhere nobody could find you, including DoorDash. The cabin is that place.”
I sigh, drop the duffel next to my front door, and walk over to the freezer to pull out a wad of cash. My life savings. “I don’t even own hiking boots.”
“I packed you some that used to belong to my cousin’s ex,” she says. “They’re a size five and they probably smell like divorce, but she only wore them once and they’re sturdy. He splurged on them the first time he took her out there.”
“Thanks,” I mutter as I slide the money into the front pocket of my jeans, quickly covering the bulge with the hoodie.
My stomach is a tight knot of dread and cheap coffee as it finally sinks in that this is really happening. Madison digs into her purse and pulls out a sheet of paper. “Your bus ticket. I paid cash, so there’s nothing tying it back to me, but keep your head down anyway. Just blend in as well as you can.”
My eyes are suddenly burning, but I don’t let the tears fall. I just inhale another long, deep breath, fling my arms around my friend, and pull her close, hugging her tight for as long as I can before she finally swats at me. “Yeah, yeah. I know. This isn’t forever, though. I’ll see you again soon, but we really need to get going.”