Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69129 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
“Mommmmmm!”
Whether it’s fear or horror or pure stupidity, I don’t know.
Nor do I care.
All that matters is I’m running towards one of the only things worth waking up for every morning and no one is lifting a goddamn finger to assist.
“Mommmmmmmm!”
Scrapes and scratches from brushing against bark and rough leaves litter themselves along my pumping arms as I finally manage to close in on the kidnapper, airy promises being pitched in the process, “I’m coming, Wy! Mom’s coming!”
Unfortunately for me, the assailant makes a sudden side dodge to the left through shrubbery not intended for passing through forcing me to stumble in my tracks in order to change trajectory.
“Bryn!” Lurch loudly barks, anxious for my attention.
My stare.
“Left!” I indicate with a two-finger military wave. “Towards the street!”
Picking up my pace leads to the unknown foe doing the same resulting in my kicking and screaming and wailing child’s frame being grated against the pavement like an unwanted ragdoll through a theme park.
Our new environment of the busy, crowded downtown Highland sidewalk, not only changes our terrain, it shifts our speeds as well as provides me with more deterrents to prevent Wy from ending up wherever it is they’re determined to take him.
Fuck!
What if this was some random plan to get paid ransom money gone wrong?!
What if this is a trial run?!
What if this is all about finding the holes in our security plans and strategies?!
What if this is just the beginning of some much more fucked up, Khan approved, plot in which they plan to eradicate the entire Wilcox bloodline?!
“Stop!” Lurch suddenly shouts, booming voice instantly parting the sea of people. “Stop or I’ll shoot!”
The threat of bullets flying – predictably – creates a panic and said panic becomes the perfect curtain for the attacker to try to cloak themselves in.
More grumbles and grunts and roars escape my guard, yet I choose the opposite strategy.
I camouflage myself into the crowd.
Allow the kidnapper the false sense that they’re in the clear.
And just like I hope they slowly separate themselves from the crowd by attempting to cross the street at which point I promptly follow.
“Mommmm!” Wy cries out, tiny flailing arm reaching for me, ripping at my heart in the process. “Gemmmme!”
Abruptly abandoning him in the middle of the street for my rescue momentarily fills me with relief; however, the sight of an impatient or unaware driver heading straight towards his sprawled-out frame immediately drains it. “Noooooo!”
Getting from where I am to where he is doesn’t seem feasible.
Or probable.
Or even fucking possible until I’ve got him swooped up into my arms with his tear ridden face smashed against my chest.
“Moommmmm,” he continues his unholy wail, tiny fingers clawing on the straps of my dress.
“I’ve gotchu, Little Fins.” Shutting my eyes and squeezing them tightly is done in tandem with my arms flexing. “Mom’s gotchu.”
“Brynnnnn!” a faint voice unexpectedly yells pushing me to lift my lids just in time to see a different vehicle trying to skid to a stop.
Wy’s screams escalate upon our joined bodies being forcibly knocked over while I simply strengthen my hold.
Wind every inch of me around him.
Bubble wrap his tiny figure with mine to guarantee he comes out unharmed.
Unscathed.
Alive.
Even if I don’t.
Chapter 3
Wes
Run.
That’s the only word my mind can comprehend.
It’s the only order I can give my body.
It’s the only fathomable way to get from my office – where I was in the middle of a video conference call about the enterprise’s clean energy initiatives – to Highland North Medical Center – the last location I ever expected my family to be.
Run.
Haphazardly rushing down the stairs leads to me skipping steps.
Tripping over others.
Clipping my ribs on the railing and stubbing my toe on corners.
Yet despite the increasing pain doing its best to pierce my system it doesn’t get it.
It doesn’t register.
One word and one word only is all I comprehend.
Run.
Roars of my name are barely heard over the hard pounding of my feet and even harder pounding of my heart.
Vaulted memories of ear-splitting screams are followed by mental flashes of flames that momentarily stumble me to a complete stop.
Command that I shut my eyes.
Watch in horror at the images my mind has managed to hold onto all these years.
While I tell people I don’t remember much from the crash, I remember enough.
Inhuman cries from my mother.
Sizzling skin of my father.
The putrid smell of my own burning flesh.
Sudden tightening in my chest stifles my ability to breathe; however, I force myself to push onward.
Resume moving towards the place I need to be.
The people who need me.
Who I need.
My eventual arrival in the lobby is where I’m unsurprisingly being greeted by Luther Park, the head of my personal security, “Wilcox-”
“Move!” is all I order during my dash past him.
“Why are you running?!” He calls out behind me. “Is the elevator broken?!”
“No,” Holmes airily retorts from the same direction. “He’s just-”