Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
I took a few things along—jeans because mine were large, and if he was out in the snow, he should have pants that fit, underwear, and a sweatshirt that lay on his mattress and looked like he’d worn it a lot.
When flashing red and blue lights spun around the room, I froze. No. No, no, no, no.
My heart lodged in my throat. I had to get out of there. Had to run. I rushed for the door—just as the officers approached.
“Hands in the air!”
Officer Paulson. He was better than Dirk. My gaze caught on the other officer, whom I didn’t recognize, as they frantically looked around.
My chest tightened, breath hard to control.
I tried to push my way past them, but they grabbed me. I immediately began to flail, fighting to get out of their hold as the two officers tried to cuff me.
“Crow, settle down. We’re just trying to figure out what’s going on here,” Paulson tried to soothe me, but it didn’t work. The other officer tased me, and I immediately went to my knees, electrical currents shooting through me and feeling like they fried my insides. It numbed me enough that they were able to put the cuffs on me.
We were outside Cyrus’s place now, a neighbor watching. A few other people had crowded around to see the show, though I didn’t know what they were doing out here so late. Was it still late? It had to be, but it felt like my brain wasn’t working.
Paulson sat me in the grass as I struggled to get out of the cuffs. My heart was beating too quickly, head throbbing, throat closing, words swimming in my brain like piranhas getting fed, too fast and vicious for me to catch them.
“Crow, what were you doing in Cyrus Evans’s apartment?” Paulson asked.
I let out a low growl in response, my hair a curtain over my face.
He lowered his voice. “I don’t want to arrest you. I don’t feel like you’ll get a fair shot, but you’ve gotta give me something. Where is Cyrus?”
I snapped my teeth at him like an animal. That’s what I felt like in moments like this, as though I wasn’t human.
“Jesus, I’m trying to help you. Did Cyrus say you could be in his apartment? Is there some way we can speak to him?”
Words were too jumbled in my head for me to sort them, anger raging inside me as I tugged to get out of the cuffs. Pain shot through my wrists, but it wasn’t enough to deter me.
“You’re going to hurt yourself. You need to stop,” Paulson begged.
He tried to reach for me, but I snapped at his hand with my teeth. He immediately pulled back.
My heart was breaking down my chest walls, head spinning. Any time the outside world restrained me, it followed the same pattern: they took me from my home, tried to keep me away, and I didn’t care what I had to do to make sure that didn’t happen again.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cyrus
The sound of my cell broke through my sleep, making me jolt up in bed. My heart thudded, my gaze darting around as I tried to get my bearings. My phone rang again, my brain foggy with sleep. “Crow?” I said into the empty room, as though there was something I needed from him. Was Eddie calling me? He was the only person who would harass me in the middle of the night.
My stare landed on Crow’s spot on the floor, my chest tight, like the weight of the world had just been pressed against it.
He wasn’t there. Where in the hell would Crow be?
I fumbled my phone from the nightstand. Melody flashed across the screen. My shaky finger pressed the green button. “Hello?”
“Oh, Cyrus. Thank God you’re okay. I haven’t seen you in a few days, and I was worried, and I didn’t want to overstep, but just now I was coming out of the bar and noticed police lights. I walked down to your apartment, and they’re arresting the mountain man for breaking in!”
I shot to my feet. My mouth went dry, and my throat constricted. “No! Stop them! He’s not breaking in.” But really, he was. I didn’t know what in the hell Crow was doing at my place. Did he often leave at night and I slept through it?
“They’re trying to get him to calm down. They have him cuffed, but he’s flailing, trying to get free. He won’t talk to them.”
I couldn’t help but picture it, a feral Crow feeling trapped and scared. The vision made my gut churn.
I went for the door as if there was something I could do. He’d taken the truck, and I didn’t have my car, so how could I reach him? But the door wouldn’t open. I tried again, tugging at it, but Crow had locked me in the room.