Total pages in book: 13
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 11696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 58(@200wpm)___ 47(@250wpm)___ 39(@300wpm)
“Rowdy, check down by the river and over at Eve’s old place.” I point toward the river and gesture at the fence near the goat pen. “Ronan, check all the lookout posts. Ryder, you can search all her favorite hangout spots outside the fence, and I’ll check the west side woods. Meet back here in an hour if you haven’t found her.”
We all scatter, and I trot out the gate.
The sun is beginning to peek through the trees, signaling that morning is officially here. I’m thankful for the added light, as it’ll make our search that much easier.
And if we find her dead body?
I’ll be able to see every gruesome detail on full display, glittering in the sunlight.
Don’t think about that shit, man.
I continue to prowl through the woods, listening hard for any human-like sounds amongst the increasingly noisy forest as the birds begin to greet the day with their chirps. When I come to one of our first deer blinds, I pause to look for anything that might give me any clues.
Nothing.
It’s times like these—when I feel so out of control—that I long for civilization. Back when we had a city home and a pool and neighbors and a fucking car. If we weren’t living off the grid, I could call the police and have them aid me in searching for my daughter.
All I have is my family.
We will find her.
We have to.
A life without Raegan isn’t one I can live.
Chapter 4
Devon
They’ll find her.
They have to.
I want to be with them, scouring the woods looking for my strong-willed daughter, but the younger kids need me right now. It’s past time for breakfast, and they’re getting crabby.
“I can cook the eggs, Mom,” Destiny offers. “Or I can go outside and look for Rae. Whatever I can do to help. I’m old enough.”
Destiny is such an angel. She’s the complete opposite of Raegan and a heck of a lot easier to parent.
“Helping wrangle these little ones is perfect.” I smooth my palm over her silky blonde head and then scurry over to the skillet to scramble the eggs. “I’ll get some food in their bellies, and then we can look some more.”
Despite my outwardly calm demeanor, my nerves are brittle, and my stomach won’t stop clenching with worry. Not knowing where one of my kids are is sickening. This isn’t some teenage runaway situation. My kids are happy here. Not one of them would run away. Not even Raegan.
Something bad has happened.
I feel it in my gut.
As I scramble the eggs, tuning out the chattering of the kids playing in the living room, my mind drifts to the past. When I was her age. When my safety was stripped from me.
They came into our home.
Burst through the door, held my father down and forced him to watch while they. . . A shudder ripples through me. It’s been so long since that horrible day, but it still feels so fresh.
Bruising fingers and barked threats.
Rancid breath.
Utter helplessness and absolute fear.
And there was the pain. Soul-shattering and relentless. They were inside me—taking and taking and taking.
A wretched sob crackles from my throat, startling me from the past back into the present. I swear I can almost smell their body odor, lingering like a foul cloud, filling every inch of my lungs. When I suck in a deep breath of air, the scent of cooking eggs replaces the remembered stench. I shakily dump some salt into the yellow fluff, doing my best to focus on the now to keep myself grounded.
Dad saved me.
Reed saved me.
Not right then, because they had the upper hand. Later. He saved me over and over again later with his continuous love. His unending desire to bring me joy. There was no peace in his eyes until he avenged me, making their murders brutal and painful.
I sniffle, swiping at my wet cheek with the back of my hand. One thing’s for sure. I have to compose myself before I feed my babies. They’ll sense my quiet desperation to find Raegan and the fear of what could happen to her. It’ll upset them, and I need my children to be happy.
Always but especially now.
Quickly, I turn off all memories and plate up the cooked eggs. There are still muffins left over from yesterday’s baking, so I add them and some fruit to their plates. Breakfast is served. Just barely.
I’m too sick to my stomach to eat, so I take Dawson from Destiny and sit him in his highchair. He’s extra fussy, but as soon as I get a jar of sweet potatoes open and he gets his first bite, he settles down. I also sprinkle some eggs on his tray so he can play with and eat them while I feed him the potatoes.
My mind is back on images of Raegan. Except, instead of Reed watching those men rape me, it’s me in our old cabin watching them hurt my baby girl. The emotional punch to the gut has me dropping the spoon poised at Dawson’s mouth. It clatters noisily, splattering orange goo all over both him and me.