Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I watch as the driver tosses the phone he called Curt from out the window. He speeds onto the highway to get out of Hollow Oak, taking me farther away from Curt and back to the world I actually belong in.
“I’m so sorry.” I swipe at my tear-covered cheeks with my bound hands. They duct taped them together in front of me.
“This isn’t your fault,” Gracie tries to reassure me, having no idea this is actually my fault. My decisions led to this. How Gracie manages to give me a smile as she says it, I’ll never know.
She’s been smiling since I met her at the bridal shop that her sister-in-law Val owns. Gracie, Val, Phoebe, and I had been hanging out together in the store. Val actually closed it for the rest of the day so we had it all to ourselves.
Thankfully, Val was in the back of the shop with Phoebe looking for a new dress that came in a few days ago when the Shapovals came rushing in. They forced Gracie and me out and into the back of their van. It happened so quickly and in broad daylight. I’m still dressed in a beautiful wedding gown, which makes this even more dramatic.
Val mentioned she is newly pregnant. It’s a miracle she hadn’t been in the front with us. I don’t want to think what could have happened if she’d been taken with us or the stress it would have put on her and the baby. The thought alone has me wanting to throw up.
“It is my fault.” My tears spill down my cheeks. “I’ll try and get them to let you go.” Gracie leans over to whisper into my ear.
“I’m the best person to be kidnapped with. My husband always knows where to find me.” She winks at me when she leans back. I have no idea what that even means, but she seems pretty dang confident.
“Shut up back there,” the man in the passenger seat shouts from the front of the van.
The driver says something in Russian as he takes a sharp turn, and I tumble into Gracie. I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from crying out when Gracie’s elbow gets me in the side. She gives me an apologetic look like she caused it. Could she be any sweeter? I know she means well, but my guilt keeps on growing.
I’m surprised when we get off the highway only a few exits later. We pull into a residential neighborhood and right into a driveway, and I notice a for sale sign posted out front. The passenger, whose name I think is Igor, jumps out and opens the garage door for the van to pull in.
My fear skyrockets when the garage door closes behind us, and then I hear Gracie suck in a shallow breath, showing the first sign of distress.
The back doors swing open, and Igor is standing there.
“Out,” he orders, and I scoot to the end of the van. It’s harder because I can’t use my hands to try and help me balance. Gracie does the same, and the second our feet hit the concrete, he’s shoving us toward the door to get into the house and down a hallway. “Ivan. Get that door.”
Ivan opens a door and turns on the light. “In,” he orders, pointing for us to go into the bathroom. We do as we’re told, and they close the door behind us, leaving us alone inside. I see quickly why they put us in here. There are no windows.
“This is good,” Gracie says, again trying to reassure me. Maybe she’s trying to reassure herself too.
“How is this good?”
“They’re leaving us alone.” No sooner the words are out of her mouth than the door flies open again.
“You’re stupid. You didn’t even check her!” Igor shouts as he makes a grab for Gracie. I scream, trying to jump between them, but he easily shoves me away. I fall backwards, crying out when my back hits part of the sink before I slide the rest of the way to the ground. There is no way to brace myself with my hands still tied.
“Leave her alone!” I beg when he starts grabbing at her and his hands go to her ass. “Take me!”
“Zamolchi,” he shouts, telling me to shut up. I don’t speak Russian, but I recognize some words from the neighborhood. He pulls a phone out of Gracie’s back jeans pocket. “Fuck.” He drops it on the ground and stomps on it.
“No one even knows the girl is gone. They wouldn't be tracking her,” Ivan rushes to say, looking a bit scared himself.
“You better pray.” Igor kicks the scraps of the phone back out into the hallway and grabs Gracie’s wrist. He looks at the diamond on her finger as he lifts her hand. “This real?”