Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76319 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I shake my head, trying to rid it of those thoughts. Their relationship doesn’t matter to me. I have no right to judge. I’m not in the habit of picking the most stable guys either, and it’s this reasoning that has helped me at least school my face better when I’m at home.
I know Nash is doing my sister a favor, and he isn’t exactly impressed with me nor my presence in his space. Then again, maybe I’m jealous that he’s so territorial and protective over her. Maybe I want that. I know Ayla deserves it. He gives her what she needs, and I don’t get an opinion about it.
I count out and leave before Mark can ask me to stick around to help close. I wouldn’t mind the work, but having to listen to him beg to take me out again would probably push me over the edge.
I feel it the second I step outside, and the way the hairs on my arms stand up scares me.
The men around here are creepy as hell, and that’s just part of working in a diner that is frequented by people who just want to eat and go about their business. The place isn’t exactly making the news for delicious food and exciting ambiance.
Those men usually stare or make comments. They’re quick to flirt and say suggestive things. I’ve learned in the months working here that the majority of them are more likely to say something and then leave to go to the bar in town or pass out in their trucks in the parking lot than attempting to hurt someone who worked there. We deal a lot in regulars, and they aren’t going to ruin their chance for an $8.99 chicken dinner with two sides and a biscuit just to cop a feel of one of the waitresses.
Tonight feels different. The air is charged, the shadows in the parking lot stretching longer than I remember them ever doing.
I haven’t looked for trouble in a very long time. That night in Austin was too close of a call, and the look in Donavan’s eyes when he took me back to my dorm told me he was done. As much as I wanted him to chase me, I wasn’t exactly interested in ending up in someone else’s crosshairs.
He swore he wouldn’t follow me again, warned me against putting myself in danger, but I feel his eyes on me as I walk to the car Nash has let me borrow for work.
I slow my steps, that part of me I’ve worked so hard to shove down beginning to bubble up again.
Darkness engulfs me as a shadow covers my back, and I can see my reflection in the driver’s side window. My eyes are wide, a certain kind of thrill in them. God, I’ve missed this feeling.
The man steps closer, his face visible beside mine. It’s not him. It’s not Donavan.
I open my mouth to scream, but his hand roughly clasps over my face, and I feel the prick at the side of my neck before I can fight him off. My heart is pounding, knowing what’s coming, but it’s already too late.
I changed. I did what he told me to do, and yet I still end up exactly how he predicted.
***
Fear and tangible terror wake me up. There’s a tremble that feels bone-deep in my hands, arms, and legs. It’s reminiscent of standing in the freezing snow with no jacket. The cold feels as if it will never dissipate.
Surprisingly, my arms aren’t tied down, but they feel heavy as if weighed down by bricks.
I try to hold in the whimpers threatening to bubble out of me, but I’m not completely successful as I try to take in my surroundings and finding it impossible in the nearly pitch-black room. The only light penetrating the room is coming from under the door. I have no way of knowing if it’s nighttime still or if I’ve been out for more than a day. My clothes still carry the stench of the diner, and they’re fully intact. The clench of my thighs and the absence of pain there make me believe I wasn’t raped by the man who took me.
I sit up on the edge of the bed, wondering what kind of kidnapper takes me to a house with fresh smelling sheets. My stomach twists, the threat of getting sick in the back of my throat, but I force it down.
I know I need to leave the room, to get away, but I have no idea what I’m going to find on the other side of the door.
I sit on the bed for a long time, seeing a shadow pass through the light coming from the other side of the door, fearful of whoever it is coming in the room and finding me awake, but I can’t lie back down and pretend to be asleep still. It makes me even more vulnerable.