Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
The car had to be left, and I needed to figure out how to get away from here. Put distance between me and the Mercedes. Taking my suitcase, I rolled it toward the entrance of the service station, trying not to limp or let on that every step I took was painful. Maybe I could find someone who looked safe and ask if I could pay them for a ride. To…anywhere. Anywhere but Georgia. Or I could just ask them to take me to a bus station. That couldn’t be too far. You could buy a bus ticket with cash, couldn’t you?
A woman stopped talking mid-sentence to the man beside her to stare at me. Then, she gave me a sympathetic smile before whispering to him. I started to hurry away from them when another man who was walking toward the door narrowed his gaze as he studied me. He seemed upset by something. My appearance maybe? It was then that it dawned on me. Reaching up to touch the side of my battered face, I winced. I kept forgetting about how bad I looked. I had taken the time to cover it the best I could this morning while I was staying upstairs, out of Hill’s sight. He didn’t like seeing the marks from his hands. When he did, it often made him angry all over again.
That had been hours ago, and all my hard work at concealing it was wearing off. Not to mention, it was probably turning a dark blue by this point, and it was hard to cover that up. I hadn’t glanced at myself in the mirror in a while. I knew my bottom lip was swollen. At least half of it from the way it felt.
My side was throbbing, and sharp pains shot through me when I moved, but I’d grown accustomed to that kind of pain. I was good at living with it. This past year of marriage had taught me how to block out the injury and keep going.
“Hey, darlin’,” a man with a long red beard and beady eyes stopped me. His belly stretched his shirt, and he smelled of stale beer and pee. “Looks like you need some help. I got my rig right over there. I can take you somewhere if you’re needin’.”
Oh, hell no. I shook my head.
“I’m waiting on someone,” I lied.
He took another step toward me, tilting his head to the side with a smile that made the hairs on my arms stand up. “Sure don’t look like it. From the looks of you, I’d venture you’re runnin’. No man should hurt a face that purty. I can take you anywhere you’re needin’ to go. You hungry? I’m gettin’ a large pizza inside. I’ll even feed ya. Free of charge.”
He was too close now. I felt the panic starting to creep up my spine. I should have stayed in the car. Looked for a safe older woman from inside of its locked doors. Then gotten out and asked for a ride. That would have been the smart thing to do.
I shook my head. “No thank you,” I replied, trying not to appear terrified.
He reached out for my arm, and I winced before he even touched me. I had to get away. I wasn’t sure I could run though. Not while pulling my suitcase. I’d wrapped my ribs up this morning, but that only helped so much.
“Don’t be scared. I’m real nice. My rig even has a comfortable bed. You can rest,” he said, lowering his voice as he got closer.
I shook my head, feeling frantic. Did no one see this? Were people going to just ignore me and let this man take me?
“If you’ll back up from the lady, that’d save us a lot of trouble.” The deep timbre of the Southern drawl was unmistakably masculine.
I didn’t want help from a man. Men were dangerous. But at this moment, I would take any distraction so I could get away.
The burly man with breath that smelled like eggs snapped his head around toward whoever had come to my rescue. “I don’t think anyone asked you,” he replied, annoyed to have been interrupted during his attempt at abduction.
There was a low chuckle from the other man. It wasn’t a nervous laugh; it was an amused one. As if he thought this was funny. There was nothing funny happening here. I stepped back, and the oversize trucker was no longer blocking my view.
At times like this, there were many things a woman should do. Run would be the first thing. Yell for help would also be smart. An attempt to escape was at the top of the list. However, I was slightly stunned.
Tall, broad shoulders encased in a dark brown leather jacket; jeans that made sure to showcase his thick, muscular thighs and narrow hips; hair the color of ink; and eyes so blue that they seemed turquoise. The stubble on his face didn’t mask his square jawline and high cheekbones. When a slow grin began to spread across his face, I realized he was watching me gawk at him.