Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
As the cold bites my skin, I scoff at my decision not to take the car today. I do live very close to the store, right off the main street, but while at this point every step hurts, I don’t have any alternative to making myself walk that distance.
By the time I leave the elevator in my apartment building, I’m drenched in sweat. At least it wasn’t broken like last week.
I triple-check the locks on my door, have a look around the living room to make sure nothing’s been rearranged, and only then turn on the TV. Silence unnerves me too much. It makes every squeak of the old floor sound like footsteps, so I’d rather fill it with white noise, because realistically, I know no one’s out to get me. Aside from the car, I don’t have any valuable belongings. What could a thief even take? The ancient TV? The heavy laptop that makes a strange buzzing noises when it overheats? I do have a gun and a rifle, but those are strategically hidden.
I turn on the lamp just to be reminded that the light bulb is broken and I didn’t buy a new one, so I have to settle on the small LEDs above the kitchen counter.
While the apartment is small, I feel more at ease with neighbors close by. I sometimes cat sit for Mrs. Treville, and in return, maybe she’ll call the cops if she hears me scream. It’s not like there’s any other action going on at my place.
Still, I know that I stink after the long slog from the store, so I make myself move and drop my clothes into the laundry basket before rolling into the bathtub and turning on the water. The relief to my knee is almost instant as warmth envelops my chilled bones, and I slowly curl up on my side, listening to the noise of the cascading water, to the brush of my own toes against the side of the tub, the beating of my own heart. I never quite enjoyed the air bubbles escaping my ears, but it’s a price I’m ready to pay for the sense of peace moments like this offer me.
I take my time, enjoying the nothingness in my head. There’s a small window in the bathroom, and I watch snowflakes swirl in the wind as my skin warms. The colorful lights of the town’s Christmas illumination dance on the wall outside as someone laughs in the street, utterly joyful.
Sometimes it’s hard for me to remember that I used to have a normal life. That my dad took me hunting, that I always helped my grandma with baking, or even that I went to school. I was a bit of a morbid kid and didn’t have many friends, but I had a family, a future.
I don’t know how much time passes, but a growl in my stomach reminds me I need to eat something before dragging myself to bed.
I wrap a towel around my hips, feeling positively refreshed, and walk out into the dim living room. Maybe I can steal a light bulb from the store? A little sneaky fuck-you to Chuck?
But as I head into the kitchen, ready to put a TV dinner into the microwave and call it a day by passing out on the sofa, I catch movement in the corner of my eye, and my feet freeze to the carpet as a tall figure in black looms ever closer.
“Hello, Rowan,” the stranger says, his voice muffled by a black fabric mask showing only his eyes in an opening above a print of wolf jaws.
Chapter 3
Rowan
The intruder is tall, with broad shoulders, strong arms and thighs, and he moves with the confidence of someone who can twist my head off with his bare hands. He isn’t yet pointing a gun at me, which makes him somehow even more terrifying, as if he didn’t come here for valuables.
This could be one of my biggest nightmares come true, the one where one of the men who haunt my dreams decides to finish the job four years later. After all, I was supposed to die in that burning house, not crawl out through the basement like some rat.
I don’t even think. The fact that he knows my name indicates he’s here for me, not my things.
I grab a knife from a stand in the kitchen and throw it at him with a scream of pure terror and fury. For the blink of an eye, the invader freezes, as if this wasn’t the reaction he expected. He evades the blade flying his way and inhales with a hiss.
“Rowan!”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He’s here for me. He’s here to break my legs again, but I’m not going to let that happen. This time, I will fight for myself.
“Get out! Get the fuck out! I’ve got a gun!” I yell, already moving to the door, even though it’s painfully obvious I don’t have a weapon on me, since my outfit consists of a towel and nothing more.