Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69927 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
My mind went immediately to FBI.
Boy, was I wrong.
I frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It means that when Banger’s mom remarried ten years ago, her brother sold her to this guy that pretended to be her boyfriend. When Banger tried to leave him, he allowed his true colors to show and wouldn’t allow her to leave. He kept her like that for a while… but you know how Dad was. He taught us all how to protect ourselves.”
Dad to her was Banger’s biological father, Faye’s stepfather. Faye’s mother married Tony four years ago.
Banger really wasn’t a nice person—at least to me.
And I guess now I knew why.
“What happened then?” I asked.
“Banger got away, but not before she received a few wounds. Funny enough, she found this guy that helped her get away hiking about a quarter mile from where she’d run away from. He helped her, and then Dad picked her up.” Faye sighed and turned her face toward me. “I’m not saying this to gain sympathy for her. She is a bitch. But she’s my bitch… you know?”
I smiled softly. “Banger is safe from me, best friend. I won’t hurt her.”
“Don’t give up on her after I’m gone,” she urged. “Banger is a tough nut to crack, but she’s sweet on the inside. You just have to get her to let you in.”
I rubbed my left eye with the fist I wasn’t using to drive with. “You have to tell her, though. She won’t like me at all, ever, if you die and don’t tell her you’re not going to make it. And I knew, and she didn’t. She just won’t be able to recover from that.”
Faye leaned her head against the headrest, and she didn’t pick it up again our entire journey.
Though she talked, she became more and more lifeless the longer we drove.
By the time we arrived at the beach house I’d rented, Faye couldn’t even make it up the length of the stairs.
She made it up one step before her body completely gave out.
As in, I had to catch her—forcing my head to knock into the stair railing—to keep her from completely collapsing and falling.
“Oooof,” I said as I caught her. “Faye? Are you okay?”
Her breath hitched. “No.”
I swallowed hard. “Do you think you can make it up those stairs?”
There was a long pause and then, “No.”
I felt my heart sink.
I wasn’t super strong.
As in, there was no way I was getting Faye up those stairs on my own.
“I need to call someone for help,” I told her softly. “I won’t be able to do it on my own.”
She mumbled something I couldn’t quite hear, and that’s when I knew that this was going to be worse than I thought.
Like, so much worse.
I started looking around, knowing what I would find.
No one.
It was the peak season. There should be people everywhere, but the hurricane had scared off most renters this week. They were suggesting evacuation, but Faye wanted to see the beach and I was determined to make it happen.
Looking around, I saw no one. There literally wasn’t anyone dumb enough to be there at that moment in time.
Yet, there I was.
I spotted a beach chair leaning against the bottom of the house, along with some sand toys, as well as fishing poles.
“I can get you to a beach chair underneath the house,” I said confidently. “Stay right here. I’ll go get it set up.”
She had no choice.
She practically lay along the stairs, her head resting on the one I’d nearly hit my face on, and lifted two fingers.
She didn’t say a word, though, which scared me even more.
Swallowing past the lump that seemed permanently lodged in my throat, I hurried down the length of the walkway that headed around the house.
There, I spotted more chairs, which included a long lounge chair—one of those zero-gravity chairs—that I knew would work well for Faye.
Getting it set up so that she could see the beach from where I stuck her—where she probably wouldn’t be moving for a while until I could find someone to help me get her up the stairs—I ran back for Faye.
I found her in the same spot, unmoving, staring at the beach through the risers of the stairs.
I had to admit, the place I chose had a beautiful view.
“Ready?” I asked carefully.
Her eyes, dull and lifeless, moved to me.
“I want to feel the sand between my toes,” she whispered.
I felt the tears start to come then. “I’ll get you out there, boo.”
Faye, at hearing my term of endearment for her, smiled.
“Thanks, boo.” She coughed.
I struggled to get her down the length of the house and into the chair that was covered by the floor above. Once she was where I thought best for her, I grabbed a bucket from the kids’ play toys that were lined along the house and walked out to the beach and filled it with sand.