Total pages in book: 436
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 415303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 2077(@200wpm)___ 1661(@250wpm)___ 1384(@300wpm)
Each step through the hot grass lining the side of the road was nothing short of complete agony. They call them blades of grass for a reason, as each one felt like a tiny knife against my already bare, bloodied, and battered feet.
I was limping my way to nowhere when I finally came across the first sign of civilization: a one-story apartment complex.
I needed to get to a phone, or a police station, or a church. Anyone who could help me, but I didn’t have the energy to look any further and needed a place to sit and regain my wits because my mind was a cloud of confusion, exhaustion, and dehydration.
Why did King let me go?
There was something unsettling about his indecision that nipped at my nerves. I half-expected him to pull up along the side of the road at any second and drag me into the car. Maybe, it was the kiss that changed his mind. He thought he could use me for whatever perversion he had in mind, but when he kissed me, he must have realized he’d only be disappointed. So, he’d let me go.
That had to be it. But why, if he killed Nikki, wasn’t I dead as well? Why did he spare me and not her?
Nothing made any fucking sense.
After thinking I was seconds away from death more than once in the past thirty-six hours, freedom was something I never thought I’d have again.
But being back on the streets was a captivity of another sort. Freedom meant you had choices.
I still had none.
I stumbled into the apartment complex. Old and unkempt, the building had about ten units and a dark shaker style roof. Half the shingles had been replaced with mismatched plywood. Knee-high weeds grew through cracks in the concrete walkways.
Unable to take another step, I collapsed against the wall of the breezeway and slid down until my butt hit the sidewalk. Finally sheltered from the blistering sun that still felt as if it were searing into my scalp through the center part in my hair.
I just needed to sit a while, catch my breath, and collect my thoughts.
“You can’t stay here, girl. Move along.” A husky man appeared, wearing a t-shirt three sizes too small that depicted a unicorn jumping over a rainbow. He stood over me and folded his arms across his chest. “You some kind of deaf, girl? You can’t stay here. I can’t be having the riff-raff lingering’ about.” He nudged my thigh with his sneaker like he was trying to rouse a lazy dog. “Move along, now.”
“Please. I just need to use your phone. Please?” I begged, my voice dry and scratchy. I didn’t even care about the fact that when I called the police they would probably throw me into another group home.
I thought about one thing and one thing only.
I had a murder to report. Nikki may have been a whore and a thief, but she didn’t deserve to die for it. Somedays, I didn’t think she even liked me all that much, but she was all I had.
If there was such a thing.
The man sighed, clearly annoyed. “What you need it for?” He dug into the party-sized bag of Cheetos he’d been holding. After shoving a handful into his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean of orange powder.
“Please. You have to help me. I’d been kidnapped. I was locked in a room, handcuffed to a bed. I escaped and I spent the night in the woods. I’ve been walking all day. I’m thirsty and sunburnt and tired, and this is the first place I came across. Please, I have to call the police. My friend, my friend Nikki was murdered by the same man who held me captive.”
He shoved another handful of Cheetos in his mouth and wiped his hand across the unicorn. “Oh yeah? Well, you’re in luck, I’m the deputy in these parts. Name’s Crestor. So, you can report it to me.” He lifted the fat of his stomach and pointed to a previously hidden badge attached to his belt. Cheese sprayed from his mouth when he spoke. “And who is it that you’re thinking’ killed your friend?”
“I don’t think he killed her. I know he did. I heard him confess. And I don’t know his full name, or even if it’s his name at all. I only know what they call him.”
“And what would that be?” He leaned up against the wall, focusing on a light bulb in the ceiling that turned off and on every few seconds on its own, completely disinterested in my story.
“They call him King.”
His eyes went wide and his fingers loosened around the bag. He dropped the Cheetos to the ground.
Within a second, he’d bent over and grabbed me under my arms, yanking me to my feet. “Wait, what are you doing?” I asked as he shoved me toward the parking lot. My right foot twisted when I stepped on an uneven section of pavement, and I fell forward onto the road, skinning my hands and wrists.