Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27552 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 138(@200wpm)___ 110(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
“She’s not in there,” he says, running through the kitchen. He checks every cabinet. Then the pantry.
“Nicole Grace?” I ask.
“Sleeping,” he replies.
I tug on Sammy’s hand and lower myself to his eye level. “Where did Maxie go, sweetie? Did you see?” I’m unable to hide the tremble in my voice.
He shakes his head.
King slowly raises his eyes to mine and answers the question the second they lock without saying a word. She didn’t go anywhere. She was taken.
“No!” I want to cry, but I don’t want to scare Sammy.
The screen door at the back of the house flaps in the wind, and King wastes no time running in that direction. I raise myself to my feet, and it takes forever because my mind is already at the back door with King.
“I don’t know where she went. I woke up, and she was gone,” Sammy says, following close behind.
King looks out the door in both directions. “Nothing. The door was open, but the screen door was shut. I’ll go check the garage and the treehouse. Maybe, it’s not what we think, and she’s just hiding.”
“I’ll go with you,” Preppy says.
King and Preppy run out into the rain which chooses that moment to open up onto the earth like the ocean is falling from the sky. If Max is out there in this…no. I won’t let my thoughts go there.
She’ll be fine. She has to be fine.
Sammy tugs on the sleeve of my sweater. “Will Maxie be okay?”
I brush his soft hair back on his head. “She’ll be fine. Daddy’s going to get her now. Why don’t you go sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s bed for a little while?”
He nods and pads sleepily down the hall, content with his mommy’s assurance that Max will be okay.
I really hoped what I told him wasn’t a lie.
Another contraction hits, and this time, I don’t breathe through it. Instead, I grit my teeth and wait for it to pass. When it does, I realize I can’t just stand there, so I recheck every possible hiding space in the house for Max but come up empty.
Another contraction hits me, and it’s so strong that when it passes, I find myself on my knees in the middle of the kitchen.
“Mommy!” I hear a small voice in the distance, and at first, I think it’s my imagination or the wind.
“Mommy!” It’s not the weather or my brain calling to me.
It’s my daughter.
Max’s cries are an adrenaline shot straight to my heart. I hope that King heard her, too, but I can’t rely on it. I have to get to her. It’s my only thought. My only purpose.
I head for the front door toward the sound of her cries. On instinct, I reach into the side table drawer and grab the handgun King keeps there. It’s on a belt, so I throw it over my shoulder.
What greets me outside is the storm beginning to flex its muscles.
Twisted metal, what looks like used to be the poles that held up the Welcome to Logan’s Beach sign, crashes into the house, but I can’t hear the impact over the wind howling in my ear like a wolf cry in the night.
The metal piece crashes against the house again and again, turning and flopping like a fish out of water. It scrapes along the roof, tearing off shingles, before launching over the back of the house.
I duck to avoid one of the rectangular-shaped shrapnel pieces spinning in my direction. I barely manage to avoid decapitation when another hits me hard, landing flat against my back with blunt force that rips the air from my lungs. I stagger forward, trying to maintain my balance. The wind makes it hard to fill my lungs again, and it seems like forever until I’m able to take a breath that is actually productive.
I trudge forward in the shin-deep brown water. Each step meets resistance and feels as if there’s a hundred-pound weight strapped to each of my thighs. I shield my eyes from the stinging rain and try to blink away the water blurring my vision as I search the water for any sign of Max.
A contraction hits me so hard I temporarily go blind. The pain can come. I don’t give a shit about pain right now. I do need my sight to find Max however and the number of seconds it takes me to regain the use of my eyes seems like an eternity.
I’m halfway through the front yard when I see Tricia shoving Max into the backseat of her car. The water is halfway up her tire. Most of the roads are closed. There’s literally shrapnel flying around in every direction. The pain and anger I feel surging through my veins over her trying to take my daughter overwhelms me, but coming in a close second is the fact that this bitch’s plan is a shitty one and she’s putting Max in danger in order to carry it out.