Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
I’d give up my books, my career, my entire fucking life.
At some point, not sure when, tears started to mix with the water from the shower. I looked down at my wrists, seeing the faint marks from where the ropes had been tied, and I cried even harder. Realization hit me like a hurricane, nearly barreling me over.
I was so close to death. The Grim Reaper had their scythe held up right against my neck. And it still wasn’t over. Whoever took me was still out there, and I wouldn’t be able to stop looking over my shoulder until they were caught.
More tears. I crouched down, letting the water pound into my back and my neck. I let it all out. A mixture of fear and panic and dread, but also relief and hope and determination. I’d never felt this wide range of emotions all at once before. It would probably come in handy for my writing later, but right now, I was shocked my body could even process all of this.
Shock. There’s another emotion to add to the list.
After about thirty minutes of just letting the water fall on me, I figured it was time for me to get out before Gabe started to worry. I turned off the shower and grabbed one of the hotel’s plush white towels. Maybe it was the fact that I’d been kidnapped hours before, but something about today made me appreciate just how goddamned soft the towel was. I held it against my face and nearly started to cry again.
I wasn’t always so emotional, but I figured this was probably expected after everything I’d been through.
Gabriel was lying on the bed when I walked out, the towel wrapped around my waist. I went for my suitcase and grabbed a pair of black boxers, changing in the bathroom before walking out again. Gabriel had changed, too, wearing a white tank top and gray shorts that looked like they were fighting against his big thighs for their dear life.
“How was the shower?” Gabe asked.
“It was everything I needed.” I walked over to the window, wondering if my eyes were still puffy from all the crying. The city underneath us seemed so inviting. It was the weekend, so Atlanta was alive with people going out to dance and drink at the clubs and bars. I wondered how many of them were concerned about the rabid serial killer still on the loose out there.
I pulled myself away from the window before my thoughts could spiral. Gabe patted the side of the bed. I padded my way over, lying down with plenty of space between us.
Space I found that I instantly hated.
“What a fucking day,” I said, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m just… I’m fucking tired.”
“You’ve been through hell and back today.”
“Fuckin’ literally.” A familiar and unwelcome pressure built up in my throat. I took a deep breath and tried to swallow it down, but that only made it worse. The cry came out strangled. “Sorry.”
“Trist, you don’t have to apologize. At all. Let it all out. That’s the best way to deal with this.”
“I already let most of it out in the shower,” I said, rubbing away the streak of moisture that appeared on my cheek.
“You’d be surprised how much more is left.” Gabe offered me a warm smile. His blue eyes were bright with something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Hope? Happiness? He was close enough that I could smell the faint touch of the leathery cologne he liked to wear. Manly and strong and inviting. I crossed my legs at the ankle and looked back out the window, trying to ignore the warm spark that planted itself somewhere between my ribs.
I didn’t want to talk about me anymore. There would be time to deal with my shit. “Steven’s story was pretty wild, huh?” I asked, steering the topic away from me.
“It was. You never know what someone’s going through, huh? He’s always smiling and joking around. Never giving any sign he’s carrying all that trauma around with him.” Gabe stretched his arms over his head and let out a low yawn. I couldn’t help but glance sideways at Gabriel’s pits.
How was every single part of him so fuckin’ perfect? And why did I have the urge to lean over and stick my face directly into his underarm?
Maybe it’s still all the adrenaline inside me.
Yeah, that had to be it.
Gabe shook his head and looked to me. “I just can’t believe there’s a person out there who would hurt their own child like that. It doesn’t compute for me. I’ve seen a lot of shit, being a Marine and working in the field I do, and I’ve got to say that evil parents are some of the worst monsters out there. A kid should be able to trust their parent before anyone else.”