Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103637 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“Shit. You should have gotten to him right away. We lost too much time,” the driver remarked, and he must have accelerated, because the engine roared as if it were being strangled, and the car shook over every single bump in the asphalt. At this rate, they would crash, and he curled up, covering his head in a vain attempt to provide himself some protection from what now seemed inevitable. The sob he uttered earned him another shove.
“Shut up,” Freckles said and leaned in between the front seats. “I needed to make sure it was him, so stop making it my fault. You weren’t any faster.” Before he could have said anything else, the glass at the back crumbled, and both he and Arden cried out.
“Shoot him. Shoot the fucker,” roared the driver, his voice gaining a high pitch as Arden’s other captor produced a large handgun and kneeled on the seat, sending bullet after bullet through the empty window.
Each shot was like a blow to Arden’s head, echoing in his ears as he scrambled lower, hiding on the floor littered with empty snack packages and condom wrappers. The noise outside was unbearable and he covered his ears, trying to breathe and keep himself in a stable position.
He would die today. He was about to die, whether he reached Luke’s or not, and that realization squeezed out more tears, because he was nineteen and still had so much to live for.
He should have yielded and kissed Mike when he had the chance.
Something exploded, and the car sank lower before swerving as if it were about to roll. The driver hit the brakes, uttering a frantic yell, and just as Arden thought he was done for, the vehicle must have left the road, rocking on the uneven ground as it lost speed.
Arden couldn’t catch his breath, crying as each shake resonated in his knees and elbows. Too afraid to look up and see whether it was safe to bolt out of the car, he stayed perfectly still as the vehicle came to a halt.
The sound of a motorcycle revving brought his heart back to life and it only hit him then that Freckles could have shot Mike or one of the other Smokeys, because who else would have been on their tail with so much ferocity?
“Let the boy out, and I’ll consider not shooting your balls off,” Mike said in a voice so sharp and low he barely sounded like himself. But he was here. He’d come for Arden!
Freckles was about to say something, but the driver snarled at him. “There’s three of them already and more coming. Open the goddamn door.”
The bald head glistened with sweat, but in the end, he squinted at Arden, breathing shallowly while he calculated his chances for survival. “Get out.”
Arden didn’t have to be told twice, and fell out of the car as soon as he pried the door open, still stunned that he hadn’t ended up tied up in Luke’s basement.
The sun blinded him after the ride in the dusky interior of the car, and he blinked, stumbling toward the big figure he recognized as Mike.
“Behind me, boy,” Mike roared, watching the vehicle with his arms steadied, as if he were ready to shoot at any moment.
Arden was so shaken he couldn’t walk straight and ended up falling over into the sand, but he still crawled on all fours just to be farther away from his former captors. The sand and rocks dug into the flesh of his palms, but he would only be safe once he reached Mike.
“It’s all good, man,” said Freckles, stepping out of the car with his hands raised. “I think it’s a misunderstanding.”
“Luke sent them,” Arden whined without shame, still squinting so the bright sun that made the air tremble wouldn’t hurt his eyes.
He could see Mike’s face now, and the sky-blue gaze got darker, meaner, as if a different person had crawled out of Mike’s body. And this person wasn’t there to joke around.
“You’re bleeding,” Mike said, swallowing as two more bikes approached, roaring in anger. One of the abductors hissed.
“Shit. Fuck!”
“Sorry! It’s a fuck up, we got the wrong person,” the driver yelled, but agitation was palpable in his tone. “It was just one punch, and then you got here…”
As Arden scrambled to his feet, he realized the coppery taste on his tongue was blood. He rubbed some from under his nose, still shaking. “I’m okay, Mike."
He flinched when Rain and Jack lost speed as they rode off the road and dismounted their bikes a few feet behind Mike.
“Throw your guns,” Jack yelled, flanking the car on the driver’s side without ever lowering his own weapon. You’re outnumbered, so if you wanna live, be good boys and answer my questions,” he said, carefully stepping between thatches of dry grass while the sun scorched them from above.