Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
He took a step closer. “If you wanna play, then let’s play, bitch. I’m going to make it a fair game, though, because even with that knife, you don’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell. I could knock it out of your hand like batting away a fly.” A tremble went down her spine, the knife shaking in her hand, punctuating his statement. It was true. She knew it was true. She was so weak she was about to fall over, her head was pounding, and she was so scared her muscles had all but seized up. “I’ll give you to the count of ten to hide.” He glanced at Gavin, still crying near the door, and over to Danny, standing by the fridge, and then back to Violet, who was positioned between them both, backed up to the counter. “I’ll even let you take one of them with you and get a head start,” he said, his smile growing, though there was no humor in his eyes, only cold malice. “Pick one.”
Pick one? What was he saying? Her gaze shot from one boy to the other. Choose one of her sons to hide with? Her mind spun, trying desperately to figure a way out of this, to de-escalate the situation. But there was no doing that now. She’d enraged him, had scalded him, and was now threatening him with a knife.
She could try to run for the front door, but the neighbors were too far away, and she couldn’t run fast enough with one child, let alone two. Plus, she was injured, pain reverberating down her leg where she’d fallen. He’d be on them in a heartbeat. He’d use a rock on her head, strangle her again as she struggled in the dirt. No, no.
The cordless phone. He’d looked at the phone in the living room where she’d left it, but when he’d come back in the kitchen, he hadn’t had it with him. It must still be there. If he was going to let her hide, she could grab the phone and lock herself in the bathroom upstairs, call the police. “Pick one!” he said again, so loud it made her jump. “One!” he yelled, beginning his count.
Violet’s gaze darted again between Gavin—his tearstained face red and blotchy from crying—and Danny, eyes wide with fear, imploring her. “Two!” She needed the phone. She had to call for help. “Three!” A sob moved up Violet’s throat, and she forced herself to move, half running and half limping toward the door, where she scooped up Gavin and darted as fast as she could into the living room. “Hide, Danny!” she yelled behind her. Roger didn’t want to hurt Danny anyway, not really. He wanted to hurt her. He’d come after her. But Gavin was still practically a baby. He didn’t stand a chance without her. Danny was clever. Quiet but so very clever. He’d find a good hiding spot in this big house, and he’d stay put until help arrived.
“Four!”
Hide, Danny, hide.
She ran into the living room, a cry of defeat falling from her lips when she saw that the only thing on the coffee table where she’d left the phone was a stack of magazines. “Five!” Roger hadn’t brought it into the kitchen with him, but he’d hidden it somewhere. And she had no time to search. “Six!” She dropped the knife in the pocket of her apron, Gavin holding on to her shoulder, his little body still shaking from his recent sobs.
She gripped the banister as she ran up the stairs as fast as she could, then turned the corner and raced down the hall. “Seven!”
Hide, Danny, hide. There were so many good spots for him to fit, and she knew he was good at it because she often played with him, tickling him until he giggled when she found him, pretending she hadn’t known where he was all along. “Eight!”
Maybe if she hid long enough, Roger would cool down. Just give him time to cool down. “Nine!”
She ran into the guest room, opened the closet as quietly as possible, and then closed it behind her. “Ten!” There were several garment bags in there, formal wear that had gone unused for a long time, and she scooted behind them, Gavin’s sobs gone now, faded into the occasional shuddery breath and small hiccup. He’d been saved. In his mind, he’d already been saved because he was in his mother’s arms. He put his head on her shoulder, exhausted, calm.
Violet waited, every muscle tensed as she sat in the dark with her toddler, rocking him gently, ever mindful to go still if she heard Roger’s footsteps coming closer. Maybe he’d search the house for a while and grow bored, realize how irrational he was being. He’d always had a quick temper and been prone to sulk and seek retribution when he didn’t get his way. He’d turned downright mean and unpredictable after Gavin was born, but it was only recently that she’d seen the shine of something more sinister in his eyes.