Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
The gas station was too much a hub of activity.
But that left… the motel.
It was always quiet during the day.
Not many people stayed at the motel. It was busier on prison visiting days, with out-of-town family members looking for a place to stay to come see their locked-up loved ones.
The only other people who frequented the place were ex-cons who needed short-term housing, the men who were on the outs with their wives, and the Johns who used the place to hook up with sex workers.
It was a very… quiet place in the daylight, with a lot more activity at night.
The lot out front that lined along the rooms was nearly empty, but I knew because we’d all been living at the place temporarily, that there was an area behind the building where there were no doors. And the only windows that looked out were the small ones in the bathrooms, the glass frosted so you couldn’t see out if you did think you heard something going down. There was nothing back there besides the dumpsters way off in the back of the lot.
A perfect sort of privacy to park temporarily.
Especially if they figured we would immediately start looking outside of town, which would leave Shady Valley unprotected and allow them to head out and take off to… wherever the hell they were living now.
I pushed the pedal to the floor, flying into the lot so fast that I risked rolling the car as I pulled a quick turn to the back of the building.
And, like some fucking miracle, there was the van.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Vienna
Panic soared through me as the ground fell out from beneath me as I was yanked back against a horrifically familiar body that felt even stronger than ever before.
“You thought you could get away from me?” he asked, hot breath in my ear.
A whimper escaped me, muffled by his hand on my mouth as hopelessness surged through me.
Because for the first time since I arrived in Shady Valley, I was without my weapon from Murphy and my knife from Nyx.
Those had become a bit like security blankets to me, giving me a sense of power that I desperately needed to be able to be out in public again. Even if I had Riff or the others with me.
But I’d been so upset and in a hurry to get away from the clubhouse that I’d done the unthinkable.
I’d left them behind.
I was defenseless.
The van peeled down Main Street, and I was just aware enough to know they’d taken a left instead of a right. Which meant they were heading into Shady Valley instead of out.
That was a good thing, right?
There was hope of being discovered.
Saved.
But no one knew to look for me.
No one would assume I was missing.
I’d taken off upset. They would be thinking I needed some air, some time to clear my head.
I doubted anyone would come looking for me for hours. Even if Riff would have wanted to, I figured Coach might talk him down, remind him that I needed space.
Even if they started looking, how much time would they waste combing the streets? Going into the stores, the diner, even the pub and pool hall that I’d yet to visit?
They might visit Dr. Swift, but she would have nothing to say other than that I was there. She couldn’t have seen me get taken. The angle was wrong from her office even if she had been looking.
There’d been no one on the cold streets that may have called the police with what they’d seen.
Every one of my worst nightmares were suddenly manifesting, and all I could feel was a marrow-deep sort of terror.
My breath was coming in short, shallow gasps. My heartbeat was thundering in my chest, the sound reverberating like a drum in my ears. A cold sweat formed on my brow and back of my neck, trickling down my temples and spine.
My vision darted wildly, blurring everything inside of the van, as I desperately tried to find an escape.
Out of the windshield, a car was moving toward us, driving in the opposite direction, and everything within me was screaming for them to see something wrong inside this van, to know I was in here, needing help.
But it just kept driving, oblivious to a crime being committed right in front of their eyes.
The van jolted over a pothole, making my abductor stumble backward, crashing into the opposite wall of the van. His grip stayed relentless on me, tight enough around my midsection to make it hard to pull in a breath, the other still clamped over my mouth.
The interior of the space smelled stale. Like unwashed bodies spent in too close of quarters for a long period of time.
My mind raced, my thoughts a chaotic jumble, nothing quite able to take root, to grow into something I could work with.