Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Still, I’m flying high as I tip the glass with the last of my Coke letting it stream down my throat and I suck an ice cube into my mouth then spit it back into the glass, looking around the bar, noticing pony-tail guy has made himself scarce.
“So,” Beverly starts, and there’s a curiosity in that single word tells me questions will follow. “You met Mathias that day you ate here?”
I half shrug, reaching down to unbutton my jeans because the double burger with four slices of bacon requires it.
“Yeah. I came out of the bathroom, and boom. There he was. He’s hard to miss.”
She giggles, brushing a strand of her blonde hair from her cheek. “He is at that. When I first met him, I could barely speak. I honestly thought I must be hallucinating, because I’ve never seen anyone that big except with special effects. I moved here a couple years ago, the bar was for sale, I was tired of living in the city and I found the listing online. I’m actually an attorney, but I hated it, so I took my savings, made the deal and made my way to Walkerville. Never looked back.”
“Wow. That was a leap of faith.”
She twists her lips on a grin, looking over her shoulder as a customer at the bar calls her name. “Sometimes, a little faith is just what we need. Let me know if you need anything else.” The customer yells for her to get a move on, and she spins in her chair and barks back, “All right, Phil, no need to be an asshole.”
I nod as she rolls her eyes, shoves her chair back and moves off to the bar, then push my plate away and fold my hands on the table, already missing Mathias more than I want to admit. I look up at the TV hanging on the wall and distract myself watching a monster truck extravaganza for a moment.
A ringing noise coming from Mathias’ flannel jacket startles me away from the TV. I immediately thinks he left his phone on purpose, and maybe he’s calling me from wherever he went, so I dig in the front pocket and pull it out.
The screen says Mom, so I set it on the table, face down and notice a business card stuck to the back of the phone.. I peel it off, flip it over and all the warm, safe feelings I’ve wrapped myself in over the last few days evaporate in a single breath.
When did Mathias meet my stepfather?
The door to the bar opens, and my tummy still does this dumb little flip like it does whenever Mathias walks into the room. But right now, I’m shivering, my mind racing as I try to figure out what’s going on. The light from outside silhouettes the person coming in, and from the size and shape of his body, it’s not Mathias.
I look back down at the card, my head starting to pound, and the need to run overwhelms me. The same urge I had when I left my home and set up camp in the woods.
The chair squeals on the floor as I shove it back, panic clutching around my throat. First thing is to get away, get myself safe, and then I’ll figure out what to do next. Right now, I can’t think straight. I stand and turn, ready to bolt.
Only, someone is blocking the way to the door.
“Astrid.” His voice sears through me like bile. “You’ve been a naughty girl.”
My stepfather shakes his head, his eyes dead, but from the way the vein in his forehead is standing out, he’s anything but calm.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“I’ve been looking. Showing your picture around leaving my phone number. Finally found someone that recognized you. Told me you were here.”
Thoughts run rampant through my head. Mathias must have called him. He had his business card. He sent me here and called him, told my stepfather where I was. But why? Why string me along like that?
Was this just a game? The whole virgin mountain man thing? Just some cruel joke?
He wants to get to me to get the money and offered a reward...
“Sit down, Astrid, I want to talk to you.”
“No.” I shake my head and move to walk past him, but he grabs my arm and shoves me down into the chair even as my heart is breaking.
“Do not make a scene. I just want to talk.”
Beverly throws me a look of concern, and I have to make a decision. I could shout for her to help. Let her call the cops. Or I can hear what my stepfather has to say and be done with him, once and for all. I have a few things to say myself, so let’s let it all be done here and now.