Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Let’s face it, even if I did find a hunting rifle hidden in here somewhere, would I really be able to use it on him? No. Hell to the no. I’ve always prided myself on making hard decisions, having to do what a girl has to do just to get by, but hurting Carver is a no-go zone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than happy to kick his legs out from under him and watch his bitch ass go tumbling to the ground, but hurting him to the point of risking death … no. Just the thought kills me.
It shouldn’t. He sure as fuck didn’t give it a second thought when King’s cabin exploded into a million pieces around me, but Carver has had a hard life. He’s lived a life where emotion and purpose are put aside for the cause, leaving you to come to terms with the bullshit at a later time. He’s a fucking robot. He’s learned how to remove emotion from a situation, unlike me, but it’s something that I’m quickly being forced to figure out.
Knowing that every second counts, I fly over to the disaster of a workbench and scramble through everything until my fingers curl around the one thing that now sits between me and my freedom.
The automatic garage door controller.
I have one shot at this and I have to time it just right.
My leg flies over the seat and I get comfortable on the old bike before taking the handlebars and placing both feet down on the ground. I lift the bike off its stand and gently rock it side to side, listening to the soft splash of the gas inside the tank. There’s not a lot in there but hopefully it’s enough to get me out of here.
The nerves spark deep inside me as I let out a shaky breath and kick my heel up, pushing the stand up with it. The key effortlessly slides into the ignition as I look up at the garage door and slowly roll the bike a little closer to it.
“Winter, baby. Where the fuck are you?” I hear from deep inside the house, telling me that Carver is still in the upstairs bedrooms.
It’s now or fucking never.
I hit the button for the garage door at the same time that I twist the key in the ignition. “Come on,” I beg under my breath as the bike begins to rumble beneath me, the sound already deafening, meaning that Carver is already on his way. “Please, please, please, please.”
I twist the handlebar, giving the bike a little more gas and just like that, it comes alive like a reader at the biggest book signing event of the century.
The bike hums smoothly, the sound completely giving me away as the garage door takes it’s sweet fucking time. “Hurry up and open your bitch ass,” I screech at it as I hear a loud bang coming from the internal door just moments before it’s torn right off its hinges.
Carver takes one look at me on the bike and I see the fear of losing me flashing through his ridiculously, electrifying eyes. “WINTER. NO,” he roars as he takes off at a hard sprint, racing toward me with everything that he’s got.
My eyes widen and I watch him almost in slow motion, knowing that if I don’t make the decision to leave right fucking now, I might not live to make another fucking decision ever again.
Without hesitation, my foot drops down on the rest, clicking the gear into first as my hand violently twists the handlebar. The tires screech against the ground, and not a second before Carver reaches me, I fly out of the garage, ducking my head to avoid the rising door, and breaking out into the wide-open world with my freedom only just intact.
My head flies back over my shoulder as I take off with a loud roar down the dirt drive, finding Carver standing in the open garage door, his hands knotted in his hair, slowly shaking his head as he watches me get away.
A wide grin stretches across my face and just to rub salt in the wound, I raise my hand behind me and lift a less than manicured middle finger until it’s flying high and proud. “FUCK YOU, DANTE CARVER,” I call out, knowing that even over the roar of the bike, he can make out my every word.
And just like that, I turn back to the dirt road, knowing all too well that this game of cat and mouse is only just getting started, and while I’ve escaped with my freedom, he’s still coming for my life.
Getting this far already is a miracle but getting much further would be unheard of. Dante Carver isn’t one to give up, and I need to be prepared. This isn’t just a battle the boys have started, but a whole fucking war.