Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 112398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112398 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
The other man jumped into the driver’s side, and the one holding me shouted, “Move!”
The driver gunned it, the tires squealing as he peeled out onto the road. Houses whipped by as he sped through the sleeping neighborhood, the night so thick and dark it didn’t feel real.
It was as if the blackened sky had drooped down low, cloaking the earth in a deformed canopy of debasement. Dark, heavy clouds began to move, churning in a toil of wickedness.
A crack of lightning blistered through, and the man who held me captive muttered in my ear, “It’s time.”
While my spirit moaned, weeping as it called out, Pax.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Pax
A tormented groan rolled out of me when I came to, face down on the floor. I struggled to push myself up onto my hands and knees. To get the fuck up. To get to Aria.
A bolt of pain stabbed through my head the second I moved, racking through my insides.
I fought to stay upright, and I gripped my head in both hands to try to stop the spinning.
To ward off the incoherency that pushed in at the edges of my consciousness, threatening to suck me back under.
Though the shout of Aria’s soul was so much louder.
Breaking through the murky blur of my mind.
Screaming as it battered against my spirit.
Pax. Pax. Pax.
I could feel her calling for me.
Begging for me.
Blood gushed from a wound cracked high up on my skull, and nausea boiled in my guts, my sight nearly blinded. But I couldn’t let it sway me. Couldn’t let it stop me from my purpose.
Aria. Aria.
I could barely make out the fuzzy figure that was suddenly standing over me, something close to hysteria spilling from his mouth. “Oh, fuck, Pax. Fuck. They have her. They took her.”
I could hear the shout of an engine tearing up the street, and I staggered onto my feet.
I floundered, and Timothy’s hands landed on either side of my upper arms to keep me steady.
“You need to sit down, man,” Timothy instructed, like there was a chance I would be able to comply. “You’re bleeding like a faucet turned to high.”
“You know that’s not gonna fuckin’ happen,” I spat as I pulled away from him and stumbled to where I’d left my clothes in a pile on the floor. I bent down, jamming the heel of my hand into my eye when it felt like a hot blade pierced my brain, though I gathered myself enough to drag on my jeans.
Clarity began to infiltrate the daze with each second that passed. Each of those seconds warning that we didn’t have one of them to waste.
It might already be too late.
Desolation yawned through the middle of me, though it was the panic surging through my bloodstream that rocketed me into action.
I snagged my shoes and shirt from the floor, and I glanced to where Dani was a stir of agitation at the door. “Tell me you have a car.”
“I do,” she rasped.
She didn’t pause to wait before she darted down the hall. She was back two seconds later with her purse and keys, wearing a pair of sweats, a tank, slip-on Vans on her feet. “I’m ready.”
“Need to grab supplies.” I ripped open my duffel. I took the gun I’d left on top, plus the two large hunting knives I’d tucked in beside it, my insides rattling as I stuffed them into my pockets.
“Shit,” Timothy grunted.
No doubt the guy’s head was spinning since he hadn’t lived the type of life that I had.
His life was devoted to children.
To the classroom where he’d instilled his own brand of hope into his students, though there was no question he knew enough from walking in darkness that he’d have a clue what we were up against.
“Hurry,” Dani begged.
“Ready,” I mumbled as I grabbed my boots, and Dani ducked out of the doorway and headed back down the hall. We ran out behind her, and dipped through the door closest to the living room that led into the garage.
Dani flipped on the light, illuminating the space that housed a newer four-door Civic.
The alarm still blared through the house, and I shouted, “Turn that off before the cops show.”
I was unable to keep the harshness out of the command as I rushed to the car.
Though I knew she got it. Felt it. What was riding on this.
She nodded frantically, her pink hair sticking up all over the place, flustered as she punched the code into the pad next to the interior door right before she jammed the button to the garage to open it.
I’d already ripped open the door to the front passenger seat and was sinking down inside when she flew back around, jogged to the driver’s side, and jumped in.
Timothy dove into the back behind her.
Our ragged breaths jutted into the cab as she pushed the button to start the vehicle and whipped into reverse. We flew backward out of the garage, tires screeching when she hit the street. She didn’t even come to a full stop before she rammed it into drive and floored the accelerator.