Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
What I hadn’t thought, was that I would need that protection for myself. I’d been too arrogant, too sure of myself.
I never saw the shooter. Never saw the bullet.
When the bullet from a sniper’s gun slammed into my body, I was thrown from my bike. I looked down, at the hole in my t-shirt at my lower right chest, and knew I was screwed. I was going to die.
The blood welled from just a small round circle, to encapsulate the entire front of my t-shirt within moments, and I knew I was going to die. If not by the sniper that was likely to put another bullet in my head, then by the gunshot wound I’d sustained. It was becoming hard to breathe, and my vision started to go hazy at the edges.
Then, the last person on earth I’d suspected to see in the world, came up from behind me in a black sedan, and stopped with the passenger side door only inches from my prone body.
The door clicked open, and a frantic Jolie popped the door open, swinging it across my body. She reached down, with her tiny fucking hands, and unceremoniously hauled me into the car, grunting, crying, and cursing.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God.” She chanted repeatedly.
“Oh, fuck. I knew this was going to happen. Jesus.” She cried.
I tried to help the best I could, but only managed to use my feet right about the time she’d done the hard part. I pushed the last few inches until I was leaning back against the seat. She leaned over, yanked the lever, and I dropped flat, the weight of my upper body slamming the seat backwards until I hit the limit of the seat, and came to a jolting halt.
“Sorry, sorry.” She said frantically.
Then she leaned over me, pulled the door closed, threw it into gear, and slammed the gas down to the floorboard.
A ping in the back glass had her jumping, but not once did she slow down. She blew through stop signs and stoplights alike. Feeling my brain going fuzzy, I lifted my hand opposite my bullet wound, and plugged the hole that was steadily leaking blood. My finger sunk in, stanching the hole with one large finger. Even the jolt of pain wasn’t enough to stop the hazy feeling from taking over.
After the third near collision, I passed out, knowing that one thing was true.
I’d failed.
***
Shiloh
“What kind of cookies does your daddy like best?” I asked Janie.
We were waiting for Sam to get back from the store with the flour and sugar for our cookies. I’d managed to get James to purchase all the ingredients I’d need, however, I’d misjudged the amount of sugar and flour that we had.
Sam had been reluctant to go at first, but after Janie got in on the pleading action, he’d agreed, albeit reluctantly.
I was in the process of melting chocolate in the saucepan for the peanut butter balls while Janie scoured over the recipes, deciding which ones she wanted to do next.
Sam had been gone for a little over ten minutes when the power went out.
I looked out the kitchen window. I was frowning at the bright sunshiny day when it struck me how odd it was that the power had gone out on a day like this. Sure, it was cold, and we had a chance of icing rain, but that wasn’t until much later in the day. It was rare for the power to go out. James had just explained this morning when I asked if we should be worried about the rain that in this portion of the city, the power lines were buried, and it’d take a bulldozer digging down eight feet to disrupt the power.
Knowing that something was wrong, I trusted my gut and turned off the heating chocolate.
“Janie, I think we need to go to the safe...” I whispered urgently, walking up to her and taking her hand.
“Too late.” A man said jovially.
Janie gasped in fear, shrinking back into my embrace, and I clutched her as well as I could to my chest, cursing myself ten kinds of stupid for thinking we might need more sugar and flour, and sending Sam to the store.
Dammit.
“Who are you?” I gasped.
“Oh, baby. This is gonna be fun. Cute girl.” The man leered.
Emotions welled up inside of me. Ones that heated my blood, causing rage like nothing I’d ever felt before to tear through me at his audacity. I gritted my teeth. I wouldn’t provoke him. Not with Janie to worry about.
Janie was shaking in my arms, and the sense of defeat tore through me. We weren’t getting out of this. The man was freaking huge. Easily James’ size, if not bigger. Tall, large ropey muscles, tattoos of skulls, naked women, and a grim reaper dominated his arms. His hair was dark, nearly black. The beard on his face could rival my father’s, but instead of keeping it tidy like my father did, this man’s was just everywhere. I swear his nose hair literally grew into the beard as well. He was hairy to say the least.
His eyes were the color of emerald jewels. Exactly like Zander’s eyes.
So this must be the brother. Glen.
Damn, but I sure could pick them.
“Are you going to come on your own? Or do I need to knock you out?” He asked, taking a step towards me.
My eyes watched his feet as he got closer to me, and widened when I saw the knife that was sticking out of his boot at the base. Four inches long at least, all it would take was one kick, and I’d be dead. God.
“I’ll come peacefully. I’ll come. Please don’t hurt us.” I pleaded.
“Walk out the door. Go to the van. My men are outside, so don’t think you can do anything funny and get away with it.” He guided me, one hand on my lower back, to the door.
I held Janie protectively against me, but found my arms empty in the next moment. Janie was tossed on the floor like a piece of trash.