Total pages in book: 174
Estimated words: 172061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 574(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 172061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 574(@300wpm)
He went to take aim, and I dove for where my gun had fallen four feet away, the outline dark in the disorienting haze that made it difficult to see.
I snatched it up as I tossed myself into a roll so I could take aim at the blackened silhouette that had turned to track me.
I fired.
The pop of my gun echoed in the night.
A wail ricocheted through the air, and he reached up to clutch his shoulder rather than his chest that was my target.
Fuck.
Thankfully, it was enough that he lost hold of his gun, the metal skidding across the pavement in my direction, and I dove for that one, too.
Both guns in hand, I whipped back around, sitting up so I could fire.
Gunshots pinged as I took aim at the shadows that flashed through the murky fog.
A shout of pain tore through the confusion, but both doors were slamming and the truck was being thrown into gear.
“Oh shit,” I mumbled when I realized their intention.
I flipped over and scrambled onto my feet, tossing myself off the side of the road as the truck came gunning for me.
I flew through the air, suspended for what felt like an eon, before I slammed into the dirt and pitched into the line of trees as the headlights bared down, the bumper of the truck barely missing me by an inch.
Throwing myself onto my back, I fired and fired as the truck was shoved into reverse. The windshield shattered as it was struck, and bullets pinged and sparked against the grill. Tires squealed as it skidded around, its engine roaring as it blazed back down the mountain.
I climbed to my feet, still firing, bullets pelting against the tailgate as they escaped.
They hit the curve in the road hard, and one second later, their taillights were swallowed by the forest.
“Fuck,” I spat.
Rage screamed through my veins as barbed, broken breaths heaved from my chest.
Felt like I was being burned alive.
The flames from the torch on the back of my hand licking up my arm, stoking the fire where I would forever burn.
No respite from the scorching blaze.
Half out of my mind, I considered hunting them down on foot.
End them the way I should have.
The warnings they issued spun through my brain on repeat.
“You should have known he would be coming for you.”
“Did you think it wouldn’t come to this? Did you think you would get away with it?”
This wasn’t about Daisy and the kids.
This was about me.
Poison dripping from my veins, my hands squeezed the grips of the guns that were still smoking.
Guilt and fury vied for dominance.
I should have known.
I should have known.
But as I turned back to the SUV and felt the horrified relief rolling from it, I wasn’t sure that I could change the trajectory.
Wasn’t sure I could find any goodness left inside to stop myself from consuming every perfect thing she was.
THIRTY-NINE
DAISY
The headlights of Cash’s SUV cut through the darkness as we slowly traveled down the narrow lane that led to his cabin. The bare drive carved out by tires that cut a rugged path to the seclusion of his home.
Tension reigned.
The silence so thick and heavy that I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think anything other than, Thank God, thank God, thank God.
I’d been terrified for my children’s safety, horror hurling through me as I threw myself into the backseat to cover them if anyone tried to get inside.
A gut-wrenching panic boomeranging through my being as I listened to the brawl of gunshots and shouts.
Shards of dismay impaling me during the time I was unsure of Cash’s well-being. If he was whole and alive or if he had succumbed.
Knowing if he had, the perpetrators would have then come for us.
But it went deeper than that. The brittle planes inside me moaning at the thought of losing him all over again.
God.
I was a fool.
Setting myself up to get slaughtered like this. My heart already a mangled mess from when he left me behind.
But now…
The connection felt entirely different.
Turbid and muddied.
Thick and coagulated.
As if every breath I attempted had to be forced through the concentration, but the density was only amplified with each crude exhale.
Cash traveled at a harrowing crawl through the impenetrable woods, the SUV rocking back and forth as if it was set off balance by his tumultuous breaths.
Or maybe it was my children’s hearts that still thundered from the backseat that made the atmosphere feel rutted, though their own silence had taken them over. Their fears still lingering. I’d made the choice to lie to them, which I hated to do, but I didn’t want to alarm them even more when we didn’t know what had happened.
When we didn’t know for sure who was out there.
So we told them that Cash had run over a landslide of rocks in the road, and it almost made us crash, and the men were helping him throw them off the side.