Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 999(@200wpm)___ 800(@250wpm)___ 666(@300wpm)
“We’ve been looking for you, sweet cheeks.” Kashton’s chuckle fills the concrete room, making my heart skip a beat. “Playing hide-and-seek, huh? What do I get for finding you first?”
I look up into a set of blue eyes through my watery lashes. His narrow on me when he realizes I’m covered in blood. “What the fuck happened, Ashtyn?” Kashton snaps, his playful banter now gone.
“Shh.” I yank on his black T-shirt, pulling him farther into the room to keep from being seen and heard. “Keep your voice down,” I whisper harshly, panic starting to set in. I can’t let them stop me.
“I’m not going to be quiet. What the fuck happened? Is that your blood?” He yanks my shirt up, but I shove him away, pushing the material down. “You’re in some deep shit, Ash. Everyone is looking for you. Come on.” He grabs my hand and goes to remove me from the room.
I yank back, and he spins around to face me once again, but I slam my fist into his nose.
“Fuck.” He stumbles back, grabbing it. “What the fuck, Ash?” When he removes his hand from his face, blood gushes down his chin to fall on his T-shirt.
I knee him in the balls, and he falls to the floor groaning. I rush into the hallway and run the opposite direction that I came from. Coming to the end of the hall, I slowly peek around the corner and immediately slam my back to the wall when I see Saint approaching. My eyes dart back the other way to make sure Kashton isn’t chasing me.
“Ash—what the fuck? Where are you?” Saint adds, calling out. “We’re going to find you, sweetheart. But we can’t protect you if you don’t surrender.”
He’s right. If I hand myself over to them, they can protect me, but it still won’t be enough. Three guys can’t save me from an army of men. They’ll destroy me. Rip me apart. All I have are the Spade brothers. My mother is dead, my brother left me here, and my father…who knows where the fuck that bastard is. And the baby…I can’t leave its life to chance like that. It deserves a better life than I was ever offered. It won’t survive in this hell. And even if it did, they’d never let me see it or be a part of its life. And I refuse to let them be punished for my actions. If they tried to protect me, they’d be in trouble. I’m not worth that.
I place my hand in my front pocket and feel the keys as fresh tears run down my face. At least I had one person on my side. That’s all I needed. A chance.
“Don’t make a sound,” a voice whispers in my ear, making me whimper. “Or you’re dead.”
I inhale sharply through my runny nose. “Can you do that?”
After I nod quickly, he removes his hand from my mouth, and I suck in a deep breath. He takes my hand, and I feel something placed in it. I close my fist around the keys and let out a sob, my shoulders shaking.
“Good luck,” he whispers, and I swallow the lump in my throat.
I can do this. It just means leaving everything I love behind. But nothing lasts forever. My world teaches you that at a young age. You can’t sell sweet dreams to those who constantly live in nightmares.
Taking in a deep breath, I hold my hair back and slowly peek around the corner again just as Saint walks into one of the rooms. I push off the wall and keep running, needing to get as far away from them as possible. I expect to hear his cell ringing any second with Kashton giving him my location away.
Shoving open a door at the end of the hall, I ignore the loud bang it gives off from hitting the interior wall of the stairwell and run down three flights of stairs to the first floor. No one is down here this time of night. The morgue is the last place anyone wants to be. It smells of death and reeks of formaldehyde. I have avoided it at all costs the past few weeks but desperate times call for desperate measures and all that.
Carnage is a city of terror. A prison that you cannot escape, not even in death. It collects your soul and demands your mind. Trap a person for long enough, and they begin to believe their only purpose is to serve. It’s like a hamster running on a wheel—you never get anywhere.
I swallow down the vomit that rises and wipe the tears from my face with my bloody hands. Making my way down the hall, I see an EXIT sign hanging from the ceiling, and I let out a cry of relief.