Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 42128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42128 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 211(@200wpm)___ 169(@250wpm)___ 140(@300wpm)
No matter how brilliant he was, this level of detail didn’t happen overnight.
“Have you done this before?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Ignoring my question, he adjusted something on the table. “The ritual demands precision. Each step must be exact.”
My pulse hammered in my ears. Panic threatened to choke me, but I bit the inside of my cheek and held it back. I couldn’t scream or cry. I needed to watch and listen for any small detail that might help me survive this.
He turned toward me again. “You will be perfect.”
The quiet confidence in his tone sent ice through my veins. I lay there, trapped on the altar he’d tied me to, fighting desperately to keep my mind clear while fear screamed through every part of me.
An alarm blared, and Dr. Kinghorn froze mid-motion. He pulled his phone from his pocket and stared down at the screen. For the first time, I saw a flicker of irritation cross his face. “Unfortunate. I suppose it’s a good thing I have a secondary site ready to go.”
As he put the phone down, I caught a brief glimpse of the screen, which showed a car parked in a wooded area with its lights still on. Before I could even think to scream, on the off chance that it was from a security camera outside this building, he was already pressing a cloth soaked in something bitter over my mouth.
I tried to twist away, but the drug hit fast. My limbs turned heavy as the world blurred around the edges.
The next stretch of time came in fragments. I felt myself being carried, then placed inside a vehicle. The engine rumbled as I drifted in and out, vaguely aware of movement and the press of rope still circling my wrists. Every time I tried to fight, the fog pulled me back under.
Eventually, the car jerked hard and slowed to a stop. I heard Dr. Kinghorn curse under his breath as he got out.
My body felt sluggish, like I was moving through thick syrup, but this was my only chance.
I forced my eyes to remain closed and my breathing steady when he popped the trunk. He gently nudged me further back to pull out the spare tire and equipment he needed to change it.
It seemed like forever until I heard the sound of a tire iron hitting the ground while the car dipped a little lower. I pushed upright and slowly crawled out of the trunk. Peeking around the side of the car, I found Dr. Kinghorn struggling to put the spare onto the wheel.
Rushing forward, I lunged for the tire iron, my fingers quickly closing around cold metal even though my hands were still tied together. He turned at the sound, and I swung with everything I had left, catching him hard across the side of the head. He staggered, but I didn’t wait to see if he fell.
I ran.
My thin slippers tore almost immediately on the rough ground. Branches and roots sliced at my bare legs and arms as I crashed through the edge of the woods and swampy undergrowth. Pain flared with every step, but I kept going, gasping for air. The ivory linen dress tangled around my legs, slowing me down.
Somehow, I managed to work the loosely tied rope off my wrists while stumbling forward. I threw it aside and pushed harder, my lungs burning as my vision swam from the drugs still in my system.
Finally, I burst out of the tree line, my feet stumbling onto asphalt. Exhaustion and the lingering sedative made the world tilt.
A motorcycle headlight suddenly cut through the darkness, bearing down on me fast. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t obey.
3
REV
My instincts reacted before my mind registered exactly what was in front of me.
A pale figure stumbled out of the tree line and onto the road, illuminated for a blinding instant by my headlight. I reacted instantly, wrenching the handlebars hard and laying the bike sideways to avoid running the person down. My heart hammered as the asphalt scraped beneath metal and leather, the skid echoing through the quiet night air. I barely had the bike down before rolling up onto my feet, my muscles coiled and ready.
The first coherent image that slammed into my awareness was of the woman—petite and disheveled, with tangled strawberry-blond hair falling loose around her shoulders. Her delicate face was stark white beneath the moonlight, her hazel eyes wide and frantic, reflecting glints of fear and desperation.
Before I could speak or move, she launched herself into me, her hands gripping the leather of my Redline Kings MC cut in a desperate, terrified hold.
Everything went still, the world shrinking to the frantic sound of her breathing and the shocking softness pressed against me. Instinctively, my hands locked around her waist, steadying her as I absorbed every detail, instantly cataloging what my eyes and hands could find.