Grave Matter – Dark Gothic Thriller Read Online Karina Halle

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Forbidden, Thriller Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
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I look around the boat, trying to remember where he might have a weapon. I know he has a rifle somewhere and also a flare gun. I’m also not thinking clearly because deep down, I know shooting him with either a flare gun or a rifle is the wrong thing to do, but I’m so panicked, I have to get away from him by any means necessary.

He killed me once, and he can do it again.

And then what?

Keep operating on me, keep me on that table like Clayton, keep bringing me back to life?

Finally, I see the fire extinguisher in the corner and yank it off the wall.

Just as Wes is about to get to his feet, I bring it down on top of his head with a sickening thud.

He drops to the ground, out cold.

I stand there and stare down at him, terror starting to shake through my body, my heart free falling in my chest.

Oh Jesus, what if I killed him?

What have I done?

“Wes?” I whisper.

I drop to my knees and feel for a pulse.

He still has one. And there’s no blood from where I hit him either.

More memories threaten to come forward. I welcome them, wanting to understand, but they dissolve instead, like snowflakes, my mind too rattled and panicked to process anything. But even though I don’t want him dead, I have to get away from here. From him. I have to get help.

The only place I can go is Madrona.

Everly brought me back to life, she’s not the one who killed me.

She’ll help me, right? Now that I know the truth, she’ll help me.

I step over Wes and grab the VHF radio again, putting in another Mayday, saying the captain has lost consciousness, giving the coordinates that are listed on the GPS console.

I then run up the stairs to the deck. The wind and rain blast me, and I look behind me at the lodge. We’re further down the inlet but still pretty close to shore. I go to the wheel and drop the speed down another knot so that the boat is crawling. The waves are hitting us, but I know outside of the inlet the swells will be much worse. I know a boat like this is made for blue water cruising and can take a beating, and as long as it stays on autopilot, Wes should get to Winter Harbor. Hopefully, he wakes up before it crashes into a dock.

I look back at Madrona, at the lights flickering through the trees. The power to the main buildings might still be out; it’s hard to tell from here.

I only have one choice.

I grab the life ring from the back, slipping it over me like a Hula-Hoop, then step to the edge of the boat.

I stare down at the black water and waves, knowing it’s going to be so cold when I land that I’ll forget to breathe.

But knowing I’ve already died once makes it a little easier.

I take in a deep breath.

And I jump.

I land in the ocean with a splash, just as a wave crashes over my head. I hold on to the ring as tight as I can, all the air leaving my lungs, my limbs seizing up immediately. It’s so cold I think it’s stopped my heart, all the dark water whirling around me as I sink.

Then the buoyancy of the life ring snaps into gear, and I pop up through the water until I’m right side up again, staring at the boat as it slowly moves past me, guided by auto. I turn and start kicking toward the shore. It’s only a few yards, and as long as my legs are able to keep moving, and as long as the waves don’t crush me against the rocks, I should be able to reach it.

I keep kicking, telling myself to keep going, to not stop, that I’m going to make it, that I’ll make it to shore and that everything will be alright, that Wes will be alright.

But at the thought of him, my heart bleeds.

I loved him. I truly loved him, didn’t I?

And he loved me.

Why did we break up?

Why was I brought back to life with all my previous memories here erased?

And why can’t I remember more? It’s like I only remember the bits and pieces, I only remember the Sydney Denik from the Polaroid pictures. I don’t know what I did when I was here. I don’t remember how Wes and I fell in love, only that I know we were in love. I don’t remember why Everly was so nice to me back then and why she’s so cruel to me now.

I just don’t remember any of it.

I know who I was before I stepped off that seaplane.

I know who I am after I stepped off that seaplane, three years later.



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