Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
I try ignoring how comfy the seat is. Someone could sleep in here.
No, Naomi. Nope. You’re not thinking about sleeping while you’re in the asshole’s car.
I stare out the window as we travel the empty road. We don’t talk and he doesn’t play the radio, and that only adds to the itch at the back of my head.
If I were more social, I would find a way to break the stifling silence, but I’d just make it more awkward, so I hold my tongue. For someone who’s treated like a god, Sebastian seems surprisingly comfortable with the silence.
Soon enough, we find ourselves on the forest road. The one I was followed on last night.
My fingers grab my seatbelt as I watch the trees that take on the shapes of monsters.
I hope that Sebastian is only using this as a shortcut as I usually do, but deep down, a murky feeling clouds my thoughts.
Something is wrong.
Completely and utterly wrong.
I shouldn’t have come with him. I should’ve stayed in the comfort of my fuzzy blanket and watched true crime, not actually participated in it.
Maybe I’m just too paranoid.
After all, I watch more screwed-up shit than should be considered healthy.
My mind is being overly cautious and—
Sebastian draws the car to a halt on a gravelly road. Right in the middle of a dark, empty forest.
His voice gains a frightening edge as it penetrates my skin. “Get out.”
10
Naomi
My blood roars in my ears as I stare at the dark forest and its trees that take the shape of the devil’s horns.
Sebastian remains unperturbed behind the steering wheel, the sharp edges of his face shadowed by the lack of light.
The darkness makes everything sinister and haunting, clawing shivers from my skin.
“What do you mean by get out?” I hate the way my voice cracks, lowering to a trembling edge.
Instead of answering me, he steps out of the vehicle and rounds it to my side, then yanks the door open.
My heart jolts at the same time as he grabs my elbow, his warmth like a knife about to stab me.
Bleed me.
Leave me for dead.
My nails dig into the seatbelt and I shake my head. There’s no way in hell I’m stepping one foot outside.
Oblivious to my reaction, Sebastian’s head peeks inside and I cease to breathe as the side of his body flattens against my chest while he undoes my seatbelt.
The razor-sharp edge of his touch slashes through me, figuratively cutting my clothes and sitting threateningly against my sensitive skin.
As soon as he releases me from the seatbelt, he pulls me out of the car. I stumble to my unsteady feet, hissing in a sharp breath as if I’ve been through a physical workout. He drags me toward the trees, even when I try to wiggle free from his hold.
The car is no longer visible, but its distant headlights cast a shadow on his face and the taut muscles of his body. That’s when he finally stops.
“What is this?” I regain some strength in my voice and use it as armor.
The unfamiliarity of the situation is a disadvantage, though, and I feel like grasping for solutions I already missed.
Sebastian tips his chin at the forest surrounding us from every side, at the tall, gruesome trees and the pitch-darkness that’s broken by the sliver of white light shining from the moon. But even that is interrupted by the height of the trees.
There’s still the car’s lights that cast a gruesome sheen on his face. Or maybe I’m only imagining that due to the way my pulse keeps skyrocketing.
This place is wrong. Utterly so.
He chose to stop in a deserted place I wouldn’t recognize even in daylight. The road isn’t visible from here, and only the distinctive sounds of owls and some hissing of night animals reverberate around us.
“Have you heard about Blackwood’s forest, Naomi?”
I cross my arms over my chest and suck in a sharp intake of air. I’m pretending to be all composed when I’m, in fact, on the verge of freaking out. This looks like an episode of my true crime podcasts.
Maybe Sebastian is a serial killer.
Serial rapist.
Serial creep.
Maybe he uses his looks and charm to lure girls, do all sort of fuckery to them, then kill and bury them in the forest where no one will find them.
Or maybe you watch too much true crime.
Clearing my throat, I choose to hold on to my fake calm. “Of course, I have. I’ve lived in this town for four years.”
“Then you must’ve heard about the numerous burial sites scattered around. They say our town doesn’t have a high crime rate, but maybe that’s because they were all hidden by influential people a long time ago. Maybe some of the disappearances reported to the police weren’t runaway cases after all.”
Okay. Now, I’m scared.
Scratch that. My survival mode kicks into full gear like when I was being followed by that van last night.