Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
The lock turned in the door.
I tugged the sheets to my chest even though it was just Fender, and there was no reason to worry about modesty with him.
But it was a guard with my breakfast.
When he realized I was naked in bed, he stilled, like he shouldn’t be there. He didn’t even bring the tray to the bed like usual. He left it on the armchair by the front door and hurried out. “Boss said be ready in thirty minutes.”
Dressed in my work attire, I sat at the edge of the bed next to my empty tray.
Several pairs of boots thudded against the wood. The door was unlocked and opened. The two men there took their usual posts on either side of my door.
And then Fender made his entrance.
Dressed in all black, his eyes matching, he stared me down. His muscular arms hung by his sides, the veins visible on the backs of his hands and along his neck. The rest of him was covered.
His anger hadn’t faded after a good night of sleep.
He actually seemed angrier.
Wordlessly, he turned around to depart, expecting me to follow him.
“Fender.” I approached the front door and looked outside, the sunlight making my eyes squint and water.
He pivoted slightly toward me but didn’t completely turn around. He could only see me in his peripheral vision.
“Can I say goodbye—”
“No.” He continued forward.
I ignored the men on either side of the door and caught up to Fender. “Please. What if I never see her again—”
He spun around and gave me a look that was the gateway to the underworld. Eternal flames burned, the threat unmistakable. “I allowed her to live, and you dare ask me for more?” He took a step closer to me, an audible crunch of his boot against the snow. “After what you’ve done to me, you dare ask me for anything else?”
I instinctively stepped back, my nostrils exhaling the moisture from my lungs. His eyes seared mine, so I dropped my chin and looked away. The contact was too painful, too blazing hot. It was like looking directly at the sun.
He took the lead, walking ahead of me, his two men positioned on either side of me from behind. In a perfect triangle, we walked, moving through the camp, past the clearing. Blood wasn’t visible under the noose because none had been spilled last night. The girls weren’t at the benches yet because they were still getting ready for the day. I should only feel relief that I was departing this place forever, but since a part of my heart was still there, it was like leaving home.
Because my sister was home.
We moved to the front of the camp where I’d arrived all those weeks ago. A black horse was there, saddled and ready to go. Fender climbed on then looked down at me.
I just stood there. “I…I’ve never ridden a horse.”
He stared down at me for a couple seconds, his hostile look exactly the same, and then he climbed back down. “Left foot here.” He tapped the metal opening where it was supposed to slide in. “Grip the horn.” He instructed me by putting my left hand on the horn of the saddle and my right on the back of the saddle. “Swing your leg over. Go.” He gripped my hips and lifted me, guiding me up like a father putting his daughter on a pony at the fair.
Now, I was on top of the horse, having a clearer view of the camp because I was so tall.
Fender guided me to the back of the saddle then climbed in front of me. He took the reins of the horse in one hand. “Hold on.” He dug his heels into the sides of the horse, and we took off at a run.
“Oh my god.” I squeezed him hard and pressed my cheek into his back, holding on for dear life. “Can you slow down?”
“No. I’m late—because of you.”
After a long ride, we made it to a main road.
There were men there ready to take the horse into a stable to rest. There were also cars tucked inside a wooden structure covered with ivy and bushes. On the left were two expensive sports cars. The rest were work trucks and cars I used to see on the road every day.
Gray like rain clouds, the car Fender chose was sleek and curvy, a type of car I’d never seen before. I didn’t even know what kind it was. We got into the seats, and he started a powerful engine that was like a small explosion in the beginning before it faded into a gentle purr. He turned on the radio, carefully backed out until he made it to the main road, and then floored it.
It was like riding the horse all over again.
Fender took the road hard, pushing the car to a speed that would kill us instantly if he lost control of the wheel.