Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I’m literally standing between the man who wants to hurt me and the man who could save me.
We didn’t talk about what I should do if I was ever in this predicament. I know Spade has guns, but he went outside in his boxer briefs. It’s not like the man fucked me with a handgun attached to his waist. He’s just as incapable of producing a weapon from thin air as I am.
If he does have a gun, should I drop down so he can shoot Will?
Should I move to the right or the left to give him a better line of sight?
What if I move in the wrong direction and end up getting hurt by whatever means Spade plans to use?
I don’t know what to do, but I’m aware that this isn’t going to end well.
“Hi, Sylvie,” Will says with no concern that Spade is behind me.
He’s just as aware as I am that I’m physically stuck between the two of them.
“Will,” I manage, the tremble in my voice bringing a sinister smile to his lips.
“I came to give you a gift.” His tone is nonchalant as if he’s a normal visitor and not a psycho holding a weapon in front of him.
It makes him seem even more dangerous, a great feat considering the circumstances.
The front porch light gleams off a familiar locket as it hangs from the fingers of his free hand.
Confused, I focus on the gold oval as it spins in the breeze.
I’m hypnotized by the sight of it, my legs threatening to give out when I realize where I know it from.
My eyes snap up to his, a sob bubbling deep in my throat.
“No,” I pant. “Please no.”
“You recognize it, don’t you?”
Feral rage boils inside of me when he pockets the necklace, and I feel as if I wouldn’t feel the knife if he stabbed me when I was clawing his eyes out.
“My dad was livid when my cousin brought her home. I was very young, but I can still hear them arguing about taking a woman so close to where we lived. Dad was certain that it would bring the cops to our door. She had the power to bring down the entire organization.”
I’m gasping on air at this point, pain and past trauma taking over my body.
“Lucky for us no one even filed a missing person report on her.”
I shake my head. There’s no way he’s telling the truth.
“It was a gift, right? Something she always wore and never took off? My cousin told me she fought for it when it was pulled from her neck.”
“Will,” I beg, needing his words to just be another lie because this truth hurts too much.
I know he isn’t. That necklace was around my mother’s neck in every single photo I have of us together. My grandfather gave it to her right after I was born. He said she treasured it, but when I got older, I convinced myself he told me these things just to make me feel better. A woman who treasured a necklace would never be able to leave her child behind.
“Do you think she’d still love you today if she knew you gave up so easily on her?”
Sobs bubble out of my throat, my pain so intense that I barely register the shadow moving across the front lawn.
Will laughs, the most sinister sound I’ve ever heard, but it’s stops as quickly as it started when the guy who brought the girl to the clubhouse presses the tip of a gun to his temple.
“Give me a fucking reason,” he spits as my front porch light glints off the barrel of his weapon.
Will keeps his eyes locked on mine, the knife still suspended between us as if he’s more than willing to die just to continue witnessing my pain.
“Drop the fucking knife,” Angel demands.
A slow smile spreads across Will’s face, but before I can formulate more words, I’m shoved out of the way, the crash of my shoulder into the doorframe as Spade flies out onto the porch barely even registering.
I’ve heard that emotional pain can be more painful than physical assaults on the body, but I didn’t believe it until now.
I feel almost ghost like as I watch Angel and Spade overpower Will, pinning him to the ground just past my porch steps.
Like I’ve only seen on movies, the darkness boils, commandos coming from all corners, as if darkness and gloom materializes right before my eyes. Guns are drawn, and for some reason, my brain forces me to focus on the black barrels of military grade weapons. They seem so out of place in my suburban neighborhood.
Will is lifted from the ground, the men dragging him up more than assisting him to stand.
My body had stopped shaking, as if the news of my mother’s demise had the power to shut me down completely.