Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
“You’re very welcome, Torri.” He reached across the seat and took her hand. “Should we go? I can’t wait to take you to the Mother Ship and introduce you to my people.”
“Wow…that sounds so weird. I feel like I’m in a sci-fi movie.” She shook her head, still trying to take it all in. “Okay, let’s go. I just wish I didn’t have to go in this.” She grimaced down at the blood-stained nightdress she was still wearing. “I mean, if I’m going to meet an advanced alien culture, this isn’t exactly what I’d pick to let them see me in.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to tell you to put on more suitable clothing,” Vic said apologetically.
“Don’t worry about it—we were both really focused on getting out of there and it’s not like I’ll miss my boring beige scrubs. I just wish there was a way to get some more clothes. Wait a minute—what day is it?” Torri asked, frowning.
He furrowed his brow.
“I believe this is Friday on your weekly human calendar.”
“Perfect!” She felt a surge of excitement. “Chuck will be out with his bowling league. So we can stop by my house and I can grab some clothes there.”
Vic frowned.
“Don’t you think that’s an unacceptable risk? What if your mate catches us?”
“Chuck won’t be home,” Torri promised him. “He’s bowled every night for the past three years—he never misses.” She sighed sadly. “Of course, Friday used to be our date night, but not after he decided to start bowling. Sometimes I think that’s when we started growing apart, you know?”
She bit her lip when she realized that Vic was just sitting there, listening quietly, with the truck’s engine running.
“Sorry.” She looked down at her hands. “I’m sure you don’t need to hear the whens and whys of how my marriage went to Hell.”
“Torri, I’m willing to hear anything you need to talk about,” he murmured. Reaching out, he squeezed her hand gently in his large, warm one. “And if you really want to go to your old domicile to get some clothing and you don’t think it’s a risk, then we’ll go. Just tell me the way.”
“Thanks, Vic.” She smiled up at him, appreciating his kindness. She wondered what Chuck would say when he found out she had run away from the mental institution he had stuck her in with another man. He would probably assume the worst and who knew if she would ever get to explain the truth to him?
Who knew if she even wanted to try?
Trying to push the thoughts of her husband out of her head, Torri lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Twenty-Four
Vic was right—despite being new to “Earth vehicles,” he was an excellent driver. Once Torri let him know which side of the road to stay on and what the different colors on the traffic lights meant, he navigated the roads as smoothly as though he’d been driving O’Toole’s monstrous black truck all his life.
They took the back roads to avoid attracting attention. Before they had left her room, Vic had pushed O’Toole’s lifeless body under Torri’s bed and pulled the covers up to hide the torn restraints. But the orderly’s death and her own disappearance, as well as Vic’s, were bound to be noticed sooner or later.
Torri was hoping for later. She knew none of the nurses wanted to come check on her and Gus the security guard now had the idea that O’Toole had left in the middle of the night. So until somebody looked under the bed, they wouldn’t realize the orderly had been killed.
She was a bit surprised at the total lack of guilt she felt over O’Toole’s death. He had been killed on her behalf, after all. But then again, he had been trying to rape her at the time and who knew how many other helpless women patients he had abused. As far as Torri was concerned, he had gotten what he deserved.
As for the fact that all the dreams she’d been having were real and Vic really was an alien scout, well, that was a little harder to process. But thanks to growing up with Nana—and her own experience with the Seeing Dreams—Torri had plenty of practice in believing in things that couldn’t be easily explained.
So the new man in your life is an alien scout sent to bargain for brides and there really are evil extraterrestrials heading for Earth—so what? You can handle it, she told herself firmly. Everything is going to work out fine.
She hoped, anyway.
They got to her house after taking a rather circuitous route. As expected, Chuck’s car wasn’t in the driveway—he must be out with his bowling league. They had even won a trophy last year—her husband had it proudly displayed on a shelf in the den.
Torri had wanted to come watch him bowl for the big tournament—which lasted all weekend and was out of town at a resort in New Mexico. But Chuck always said it put him off his game to be watched, so she had celebrated his victory with him after he brought the trophy home the following Monday.