Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Tears pricked my eyes, and I didn’t even have the strength to blink them away as I kept pushing forward.
Just as the hopelessness of the situation was starting to crash down on me, I felt hands slam into my shoulders, catching me off-guard, sending me sailing forward, free-falling, my stomach plummeting.
I barely had the good sense to throw out my arms to catch my fall in time.
But I landed weird on my left hand, the crack and the pain screaming up through my arm, making me cry out and try to yank my weight off of it.
The momentary distraction gave him all the advantage he needed, though, and I felt him moving in behind me.
No
No, damnit.
I scrambled forward on my knees and good arm, the twigs biting into my flesh, but I barely registered the pain.
And it was immediately dwarfed by a different pain as a blow landed to the back of my head. Then my side, just under my ribs, stealing what was left of my breath.
Storm was frantically barking, snarling, doing everything his instincts told him to do, save for biting.
He was too little anyway.
His bite would only be an annoyance.
And potentially something that could get him hit or killed.
I couldn’t stand the idea of that happening.
With my mind on Storm, my attacker grabbed the back of my neck, using it to slam my face down on the ground.
The shock overwhelmed the pain for a second, and it wasn’t until I tasted the metallic blood trickling into my mouth from my nose that I realized how hard I’d hit the ground.
“Stupid bitch,” he snapped as he grabbed a handful of my hair near the ends, savagely ripping backward, making sharp pain cascade across my scalp. “You really thought you could get away?” he asked, yanking harder, my neck damn near feeling like it might snap backward. “There’s nowhere on this fucking planet you could hide from me,” he growled. “Where is it?” he asked as the tears that were stinging my eyes started to rush down my cheeks.
It was then that something seemed to snap inside of Storm, making him rush at my attacker, sinking his teeth into some part that I couldn’t see.
My hair was released suddenly, making me face-plant again, but I didn’t stop to think.
I didn’t—and I hoped he forgave me for it—even look back at Storm.
I jumped up to my feet and started to run again, cradling my aching wrist to my chest, and trying to blink the useless tears out of my eyes.
There was a curse from behind me, then a yelp that had my heart crushing in my chest.
Please just run away, Storm, I silently pleaded.
He’d done enough.
He’d given me another chance.
But there was no use.
I only made it a dozen or so yards before hands were reaching out, grabbing me.
“Where the fuck is it, Millie?” he growled, his hot breath in my ear, making my stomach roil. “You’re only making this harder on yourself.”
I was.
I knew that.
But I also knew that I wasn’t going to survive this night. Whether I gave him the information he wanted or not.
So why give it to him?
Why let him win?
“Where?” he snarled, and at my silence, I felt the crack of the back of his hand across my cheek. The impact was enough to have sent me flying, but his arm was holding onto me. “Where the fuck is it?” he yelled, shaking me hard, my head snapping back with a pain that exploded behind my eyes, making me see stars for a moment before I could focus again.
I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark.
But my memory filled in the gaps of vision.
The square jaw. The green eyes. The straight line of his lips.
Objectively, handsome.
If his soul wasn’t pitch-black.
“Go to hell,” I said, proud at how little my voice shook.
To that, he snorted as he pulled back, then swung out.
This time, he released me, so when the impact hit, I went flying.
I couldn’t break my fall with my bad wrist, so I just landed hard on my side and rolled, tried to get to my knees, so I could gain my feet again.
But I was too slow.
He was behind me.
Grabbing me.
Turning me to face him.
“Fine. Have it your way. I’ll find it without you,” he said as his hands closed around my throat, pressing, cutting off my air.
It was my second biggest fear, aside from dying of fire. Strangulation. Not being able to breathe.
Even as I thought it, I could feel the tightness in my chest, the desperate urge to suck in a breath, the fuzzy feeling of my face as I started to get deprived of oxygen.
It was right then, though, that a strange, unexpected memory came rushing back.
Of me on the couch next to my father as he watched another one of the action movies he could never get enough of.