Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
It makes sense, that’s the part that scares me the most.
It. Makes. Sense.
Bill is desperate for me to find out what the club is doing, and the club is using me to keep Bill off their backs. Why would they need me to do that if they weren’t hiding something? Is the man I’ve fallen in love with a true, cold monster? Are the things I’ve been seeing actually the real person inside, and I’ve just being denying it this whole time? Am I the naïve one here, being used by people to win a war?
My heart is racing, and a cold sheen of sweat coats my forehead as I try to gather my thoughts.
“Look, I didn’t mean to ruin your day, but you wanted the truth ...”
I look up at Georgina, nodding weakly. “I know, I just ...”
“Didn’t expect that there was so much evil in this world? I thought the same, turns out there is. If you’re smart, you’ll let this one go, and get the hell out of here. The moment they’re finished with you, they’re going to make sure you don’t talk. It’s not worth your life.”
“Daniel was killed because he found out,” I whisper, “or because they wanted to sell Braithe.”
“Both,” Georgina explains. “They offered him money to sell Braithe, and he went along with it purely to get information to bring them down. They got wind of it and killed him. He was trying to save these kids; he was trying to stop them.”
I want to scream, because all of this has been right in front of me the entire time, and I haven’t been able to see it. This has been going on for so long, and the number of lives impacted has got to be so damned many. If this isn’t the only town, then these people are making millions doing what they’re doing. They’re taking kids who have a hard go at life already and using it to their advantage. They’re the coldest of the cold, the most heartless monsters there are.
“Nobody else has tried to stop this since?”
Georgina nods. “Oh, I’m sure they have, but they’ve disappeared without a trace. The only reason Western’s name is so big is because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time and so they took the opportunity to use him. If he wasn’t there, Daniel and Braithe would have just been another case of ‘missing people’.”
This is too much.
I feel physically sick.
“Look, I have to go,” Georgina says, giving me a slightly sympathetic look. “Listen to my advice, stay away from this. Judging by the fact that you’re wearing a scarf on a horribly hot day tells me you’ve already come into some bad luck. Don’t let that bad luck turn into a grave.”
With that, she leaves me sitting in shock.
I can’t move, my mind is spinning.
What the hell am I supposed to do now?
I’M TRYING TO BE SUBTLE as I follow the teenage boy down the street.
Everyone has seen his face all over the news – Corbin. The boy who returned after going missing. He is the talk of the town, but it doesn’t seem to bother him as he strolls the main street, his eyes scanning the crowd. He is seventeen now, but I’m not one hundred percent sure what age he was taken. He has been questioned and has chosen to live on his own and not with a foster family. I can’t say I blame him. His face has been plastered all over the news, but he is holding his head high.
When he rounds a corner into a quiet street, I pick up the pace and call out his name, just praying he’ll talk to me.
I’m certain he is approached multiple times a day, so I’m not certain he’s going to even hear me out, but I’m going to do my best.
“Corbin?” I call.
He pauses, his shoulders seeming to slump just a little. He glances over his shoulder at me, and his eyes widen a touch.
Oh, so he knows who I am.
“I don’t want a story written about me.”
His voice is scratchy, and he has scars on his face, scars that I know have come from a very bad place. Beneath his cloudy green eyes, his cheeks lay sunken. He looks like he’s hard a really hard time, and the exhaustion is the kind that will never leave. I feel for him, I can’t even imagine what he has endured.
“I’m not here to write a story; I honestly just want to ask one question. I know you have heard of me, so you know how invested in this case I am. Can I have one minute?”
He studies me, then turns a little more. “One minute. I can’t promise I’ll answer you.”
“That’s okay,” I say, rushing closer and stopping in front of him. “I know what’s going on with the kids in this town, and I have a strong suspicion of who is doing it. I just want to know if you remember who sent you away?”