Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 70554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“I didn’t lie about my contacts or them doing their job,” Garcia calmly steers the conversation. “And they weren’t paid off to look the other way. I already checked. Twice.”
The three of us devote our full attention to him.
“This means one of the two things happened. Either McAdams has a secret, equally as evil twin-”
“No,” Bunny instantly denies, pen finding its way from her messy bun to her writing clutches. “Daddy dearest didn’t want him period – most likely due to an unexplainable ability to sense the demon he’d become – and having all of mommy’s pride and joy and constant approval would’ve had him killing off his twin much earlier in life versus ever sharing an ounce of her love.”
“Creepy,” I mutter after extending her my other arm to doodle on.
“By definition,” Nolan concurs.
“What’s really creepy is the fact she helped sponge bathe him until he was thirteen.”
“There’s something I bet won’t be in his file,” my best friend grunts in disgust.
Garcia pushes past his gag reflex to continue, “No twin means he hired a stunt double as a decoy.”
“Who the fuck hires a stunt double?”
“The same type of psychopaths that nightly drug their girlfriend to keep her up for days at a time,” blue inked words begin to flow lengthwise across my forearm, “that way when she tries to tell people she’s being held against her will and tortured they merely think she’s suffering from a delusion induced by sleep deprivation.”
Horror has my jaw plummeting to my lap.
Fuck, I can’t wait to kill this bastard.
Part of me wants us to do it slow.
Drag it out.
Have him experience all the shit he put her through.
The other?
It wants a one and done and over in sixty seconds.
Movie reference intended.
“Celebrities hire doubles for similar stunts when they know they’re being followed,” Garcia resumes explaining. “I assume that McAdams knew we’d be watching and executed a plan to guarantee he wouldn’t be caught before he’d found what he came for.”
The pen is instantly dug in deeper to my skin.
Made to bleed faster.
Tempt me into wincing from the new sharp, discomfort cutting into my flesh.
“So, until we actually locate him – the real him – I suggest the three of you stick closely together.”
Nolan promptly nods. “We’ll have our eyes on her every minute of-”
“No.”
Bunny’s interjection has my mouth falling open a second time.
“This wasn’t a discussion, Rabbit.”
“And I am vetoing your declaration, Mutt.” She momentarily pauses from her scribbles to meet his stare. “I’m tired of being watched all…the…fucking…time…” Her headshake is slow. Deliberate. “By him. By you. By The Kid.” Another one is presented. “I said I wanted to live. Do more than simply exist. And I forgot that for a minute; however, I’m not about to forget it again. I’m tired of being treated like a prisoner who can’t have a single moment of peace to herself.”
Dejection doesn’t hesitate to park itself on my shoulders.
“I may not wanna live locked away in solitude anymore, but I do want privacy for more than just taking a shit.”
Nolan gives one scruff covered cheek an uncomfortable rub.
“I get the whole no doors thing is kinda my fault-” Sarcastic stares shot immediately at her leads to Bunny backtracking. “Fine! Completely my fault but smothering me ‘til death do us part isn’t going to allow me to build back the trust you need or reassure me that I didn’t run from one captor straight into the arms of two more.”
“We would never do the shit he’s done to you, baby,” I airily declare.
“I know that,” the pen is gently tapped in place, “but if you two keep watching my literal every fucking move, I won’t feel that anymore.”
“She’s right,” our boyfriend quietly croaks, forcing our gazes back to him. “Keeping her locked up in the highest fucking tower isn’t making us any better than the asshole trying to find her. She can’t – fuck that – we can’t live locked away. That’s not living. That’s hiding. That’s turning us into prototypes that never see the light of day versus letting us burn the tread off our wheels on the strip.” A heavy, defeated sigh shakes his frame. “We can’t let that motherfucker win. And staying locked up – the way he had her living before she got here – gives him that shit. We’ll give Rabbit more space…” He shifts his eyes to her. “But one of us will always be within screaming range. There’s strength in numbers. We’re gonna fucking use it.”
Her reply is just above a whisper. “Understood.”
“I suggest avoiding large crowds and major cities for the time being,” Garcia adds to the conversation. “Spend more time here in Death Canyon and if you get a little stir crazy do shit on the outskirts closer to Crystal Waters or in familiar, trusted, already vetted settings rather than new places.”