Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
It looks like I’m goin’ta have a longer night than I thought. What Kyla doesn’t know is I’m startin’ a second job tonight. One that will help pay the bills and the rent on the flat I share. It’s not been an easy decision, and I’m goin’ ta have ta swallow my pride, but I decided when I ran away, I would do anythin’ ta survive.
Walkin’ the streets is the only option left ta me.
Friday nights in the centre of Dublin are busier than the rest of the week. As I walk down the cobbled streets, I offer a smile ta those who greet me. I’ve found people ta be friendly and welcomin’ here. It’s as if everyone feels as lonely as I do.
Those who’ve been workin’ their office jobs all week are now out and about, lettin’ their hair down and enjoyin’ spendin’ their hard-earned money. The short skirt I’m wearin’ makes me feel as if I fit in with the rest of the women who are all dolled up fer a night out. But I’m nothin’ like them. Fer one thing, I’m sixteen, and fer another, I’m not here ta have fun, I’m here ta supplement the pittance I earn at the pub.
As a car pulls up, a cold shiver trickles down my spine. I want ta run, but I don’t. I wait as the driver rolls down the window. He’s dressed in an expensive suit, and his gaze rakes over me.
“Ye lookin’ fer a warm bed tonight? I’ll look after ye.” The corner of his mouth tilts upward into a salacious grin.
His question makes me want ta shudder and run home, but I know there are bills comin’ up that my wages from the pub just won’t cover. Maybe, just maybe, I can make enough money tonight ta take the pressure off.
The chill from the cold evenin’ trickles down my spine, and I shiver. Even though it’s May, and meant to be warmin’ up, it’s a chilly evenin’, and I know rain is comin’. A storm is brewin’, and I don’t know if it’s an ominous sign tellin’ me not ta go with this bastard, or if it’s karma pushin’ me in his direction.
“Aye,” I say with what I hope is a seductive smile.
Perhaps he really does want ta look after me. The idea of meetin’ a prince who’ll whisk me away to a castle and give me everythin’ my heart desires flits through my mind. But it’s brief.
I don’t focus on those kinds of dreams. The girls at school used to giggle and whisper about fairy tale endings, but I know I never did.
“Well, it’s best you slide yer pretty wee arse into my car then,” he tells me.
The man must easily be in his forties. The bile that churns in my belly, knowin’ he’ll want more than I want ta give, burns as it slowly rises to my throat. The taste of acid fills my mouth. It’s like a poison remindin’ me of what I’m about ta do to survive.
He doesn’t ask fer my age, and I don’t offer it up. Instead, I offer him a smile, but as I pull open the front passenger door, a deep rumble vibrates through the pavement, and I can’t help but turn my head ta see where the sound is comin’ from. Behind the car, four bikes come to a stop. The men on them are large, imposin’, and very feckin’ scary. I don’t know them, and I don’t think I want ta.
“Get in the feckin’ car,” the older man shouts at me, and I quickly slip into the passenger seat.
The squeal of tyres as he pulls away is drowned out by the engines of the motorcycles being revved. The noise is deafenin’ as he speeds through the streets and out of the city. Soon the river and bridges are long gone, and my heart is in my throat.
“Where are ye takin’ me?” I whisper as I twist in my seat, lookin’ out the back window ta see the headlights of the four bikes followin’ right behind us.
“Those feckin’ arseholes are lookin’ fer trouble,” the man grumbles as he takes a left turn, then a right. He’s tryin’ ta lose them.
“Why are they followin’ ye?” I ask him.
I look over at the man and see the scar that runs from under his eye down to one corner of his mouth. I didn’t notice it earlier, but as the headlights of a passing vehicle illuminate his features, it’s clear.
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he speeds up, and as panic sets in, my throat closes, threatenin’ ta choke me. My heartbeat quickens, and my stomach twists in fear. It feels like a hand clawin’ inside me, grippin’ me until the ache is far too much ta bear.
The chase lasts fer several minutes, but we finally lose them. The darkness settles around us, remindin’ me I’m now far away from the city and alone with a stranger who’s just escaped a gang of bikers.