Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“How?” I cry. “There’s no way out. You’re cuffed to the fucking wall of a goddamn concrete box.”
“You can’t think about that,” he urges. “Just one thing at a time, and right now, all you need to concentrate on is getting to me so I can free your wrists.”
I swallow hard, my throat never so dry. “Okay,” I say, my voice breaking, trying to find the courage to fight this.
Using the wall, I press my back against it and plant my feet on the ground before raising my hips and shuffling them over. I do it again, moving toward Dalton inch by inch. “Good,” he encourages, getting himself into a better position to be able to help me. “Keep going. You’re almost here.”
I curse with every movement, the pain like nothing I’ve ever known, but the closer I get to him, the stronger my determination becomes. I’m painfully aware of just how long this is taking, and after what feels like a lifetime, Dalton is finally able to reach out to me, his hand coming straight to my face.
He pulls on my chin, forcing my stare up to him, and I try to meet his eye without falling apart. “We’re going to be okay,” he promises. “I’m gonna get us out of here.”
I nod, barely able to breathe as I try to turn away from him, offering my wrists as best I can. He grips them and attempts to lift the tape, scratching at it with his nails. “Fuck, it’s not lifting,” he says with a pained curse, trying to adjust himself to get better access.
A loud bang sounds from outside the concrete prison and my whole body shakes, silent tears streaming down my face. “What do they want?” I murmur.
“I don’t fucking know,” he tells me. “But whatever it is, they’re not going to get it. I swear, Firefly, I’ll get you out of here.”
Defeat pounds through my chest, knowing it’s not going to happen. I don’t know how I managed to offend this asshole, but whatever it was, it’s my greatest regret.
How could he do this? Who does shit like this?
Moving to Faders Bay was supposed to be my new beginning. It was my fresh start to put the past behind me and discover who I really am on my own, but this is so far from what I had in mind. It’s barely been two days, and I’ve already got myself kidnapped by some messed-up psychopath and his friends. They’re probably going to kill me. I’m a goner and Dalton is going to be nothing but collateral damage.
“Who the hell are these guys?”
Dalton shakes his head, still working tirelessly on the tape. “No fucking clue,” he mutters. “They moved into the building a little after I did, right at the start of the school term, but I don’t think they attend classes. I never see them on campus, just in the halls. They watch everything. They know what times people leave their apartments, who they talk to, and who they don’t. It’s fucked up, Oakley. These assholes are bad news. Tell me you’re not involved with them.”
“I swear,” I say, the terror claiming every inch of me. “I’ve never met them in my life. All I know is that since the minute I got here, they’ve been following me. They came to Danny’s Bar while I was working and just sat there and watched. After my first shift when I met you outside, they were lurking in the shadows. I couldn’t see them, but I knew they were following me home. It’s like some kind of sick game to them, and I just . . . I don’t know what they want with me.”
Dalton doesn’t respond, probably making a plan to never get involved with me again. I mean, fuck, not even awesome rooftop sex is worth this shit. I wouldn’t blame him if he left Faders Bay and never looked back.
“Do you . . . do you know anything about them?”
“Not really,” he murmurs. “The blonde guy lives across from me. I spoke to him once, right when he was moving in. I think his name is Sawyer or some shit like that. He seemed cool, but there was something off about him. I’ve kept my distance since then.”
“And the other two?”
“Don’t know,” he says. “From what I can tell, they’re both the silent type. They have a lot of parties, but they never actually mingle with the people who come over, just keep to themselves. The bastard across from you, his name is Zade. He’s a real fucking asshole, but that’s the extent of what I know about him. From what I can tell, the three of them are tight, almost like brothers, but there’s something more there, something fucked up. I don’t want anything to do with it.”