Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 56078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
If I kill Ember—which would be so easy to do right now—would I destroy the man as I so desperately want to do?
But does she deserve to die?
Is this her fault?
Taking a deep breath and trying not to let the dark thoughts take over, I say, “I’m sorry about the kiss.”
“Sorry?” Ember turns her head to look at me, her beautiful eyes being the only thing I could see.
“You deserve better. Your first kiss should have been so much better. I’m assuming it was your first kiss, right?”
She nods and turns her attention straight ahead. “It was. And it was nothing you should apologize for. I… I liked it,” she confesses as she looks down at her fingers which grip the wool blanket. “Is that bad to admit?”
Christ. This woman is as pure and genuine as an innocent child. It’s hard to see her as a grown woman. Nothing in life has turned her into a broken and shielded person who would never admit or allow herself to be so vulnerable. I have never had a woman state so simply that she liked a kiss from me. That would make her weak and give me the upper hand.
New York dating laws 101. Don’t reveal your true feelings.
“No, it’s not bad to admit.”
“I’ve always fantasized about my first kiss. It was nice.” I see a smile paint her face and her cheeks pinken.
“Your first kiss should not have happened by force,” I say as I reach for a piece of her hair that is hanging in front of her face and tuck it behind her ear. “When you have memories of your first kiss, your father should not be in the picture.”
She shrugs, but her smile fades as she does so. A shiver runs through her and spreads to me. Sitting up against the cold wall isn’t going to keep us warm for long, and I know I have to make a change.
“Let’s lie down,” I say.
She doesn’t resist and lies down in front of me on her side. I position the blankets so they will be on top of us and spoon her from behind. Her frame is so tiny I worry the weight of my arm over her will be too heavy.
“Are you comfortable?” I adjust my body until I’m as close to her as I can get and try not to focus on the fact her body is curved against mine and we fit like a perfect glove.
Nothing about this situation is perfect, and yet, Ember’s body is warm, and I feel a sense of comfort I haven’t felt since being hit over the head by a madman. I also feel this overwhelming need to protect. I like knowing Ember is safe in my arms and no harm can come to her.
I don’t want to let her go.
For Christ’s sake… why don’t I want to let her go?
My eyes dart back to the window. “Ember? Tell me about where we are right now. Where in the town are we?”
“Up the hill from the main street. The ranger’s house is hidden by the schoolhouse so the public can’t see it. It was designed that way to not alter the ambiance of stepping back in time. They didn’t want to see lights on or signs of life from the main area. You were walking toward the house when—”
“What are the chances of someone walking by that window?”
“Rare. And if someone does… it won’t end well.”
“Because of your father? He’ll kill them?”
“Yes, in the acid pits at the mill. You were lucky to not be dead.”
I nearly laugh. I am far from lucky right now.
“What about the key to my chain? Do you know where that is?”
She shakes her head and her body tenses against me. I may be pushing too far, but I need to try.
“What about a cell phone? A phone of any kind? Is there a way you can get to a phone once he lets you free?”
“We don’t have a phone. There’s a ranger’s radio, but Papa Rich keeps that with him.”
My mind runs wild with ways of escape now that I have Ember—even faintly—open to answering my questions.
“What about that man who was upstairs on the first day? You said he wouldn’t help, but who is he? Maybe he would.”
Ember shivers and I pull the blanket higher over her shoulder. “Scarecrow. He’s a bad man. He won’t help. Trust me.”
“Scarecrow? His name is Scarecrow?”
“He’s missing a leg. Instead of getting a fake one or just doing without, he stuffs his pant leg with straw. He lives further up in the hills by himself. A disgusting hermit who only comes to Hallelujah Junction to visit us. He’s vile. He stinks. He’s an awful, awful man. And he’s also Papa Rich’s best friend. If he had his way, he’d be marrying me instead of you. So, if anything, he’d just throw you in the pits himself so he can have you out of the way.”