Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Gwen.
Oh, God, Gwen.
Seeing her there, knowing she could be next—that was a kind of helplessness I would never be able to forget.
“Truett!” she screamed from outside the mall doors. She had a cell phone held to her ear in one hand, the other balled in a fist, pounding on the glass.
I blinked, panic engulfing me. Glass wasn’t bulletproof, and pressed up against it, her whole body was vulnerable. She might as well have been wearing a target.
If he saw her….
If he fucking saw her, I had no doubt he would—
Like a guillotine in my mind, a sharp blade of reality fell, severing the past’s grip over me. As my mind slowly transported me back to the present, my instincts roared to life.
No fucking way I was going to let anything happen to her.
I’d failed them. All of them. I would not let Death take her from me too.
I glanced back in time to see the gunman follow the kids into the kitchen of the pizza place, momentarily leaving the dining area unguarded.
I could have run—others did, escaping deeper into the mall.
But when another gunshot rang through the air, it was like a match to my central nervous system. Adrenaline exploded inside me as I clambered to my feet. I paused to steal one last glimpse at the most beautiful woman I would ever see.
I didn’t have a weapon or body armor, but I was determined to take that maniac down no matter the cost. There was no guarantee I’d survive—mentally or physically. That very well could have been the last time I ever saw her.
My chest ached as I took in her tear-stained cheeks. I wanted to tell her I loved her and, no matter what she thought, I had loved her every minute of every day since she was sixteen years old and walked into my math class wearing a smile that branded my soul. Nothing would change that. Not even death.
Though, after everything I’d put her through, those words would have been purely selfish. She was moving on. No matter how much it destroyed me. I’d all but forced her hand.
My list of failures was already a mile long when it came to Gwen. No way I was adding to that in what was more than likely my final moments on earth.
I’m sorry, I mouthed to her.
Her eyes flashed wide, understanding donning on her face. “Truett, no!” she screamed, pounding even harder on the door.
All these people were trying to get out, and my Gwen was out there fighting like hell to get inside.
She was scared.
So fucking scared.
But that was quite literally the only thing I could fix for her anymore.
With blood roaring in my ears and a new resolve coursing through my veins, I took off toward the pizza place, hell-bent on ending this nightmare once and for all.
Gwen
“But, Mom,” Nate whined through the phone. “Dad already bought tickets!”
I ground my teeth and dropped the paint roller in the tray.
When we’d separated, Jeff and I had agreed to fifty-fifty custody, because neither of us liked the idea of being away from our son for a full week. My therapist had recommended we try a 5-2-2-5 schedule. This meant I had Nate on every Monday and Tuesday, and Jeff got him every Wednesday and Thursday. We alternated weekends, which bled into our regular days, giving us each two five-day stretches with him per month. It had been a tad confusing at first and taken some getting used to, but it’d been over a year now. There was no way Jeff had magically forgotten our schedule when he’d purchased two tickets to a Monday night Yankees game.
It wasn’t the first time he’d pulled this crap, either. Jeff was a habitual line stepper who would rather berate me for being “crazy” and “selfish” than simply ask for permission before making a commitment to our son. He had nothing to lose. I, on the other hand, was forced to either be the bad guy and tell Nate no or give up a day with my son.
I shifted the phone, pinning it against my ear with my shoulder, and used both hands to refill the paint tray with more primer. “Sorry, bud. You’ll have school that day.”
“No, I don’t! Me and Dad looked it up and it’s spring break. Nanny and Papa are coming into town too. He has to work on Tuesday, but he said as long as it’s okay with you, I could stay with them on Tuesday night since it’s been so long since my family was in town.”
Oh, look. He’d made plans for Monday and Tuesday, using his family as an excuse to manipulate me into saying yes rather than just asking. Oh, and it was not lost on me that Nate had used the term ‘my family.’ It wouldn’t surprise me if Jeff was holding up cue cards during this call.