Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
I drop my hands from my face to turn and look back to see if anyone is following us, but I don’t see the van anymore. I sink down into the seat, my heart still racing from everything that’s gone down. Someone tried to kidnap me. I wrap my arms around myself as coldness starts to seep in. The things they said to me will probably keep me up at night for a long time.
“Where are we going?” I ask the handsome stranger as he speeds down the highway. He doesn’t respond to my question. His hands are gripped tight on the steering wheel. “You saved me.”
I stare at the man in awe. My very own hero. I wasn’t sure heroes were real anymore, but I’ve gone and found myself one. Well, technically I suppose he found me.
He grunts his response.
“Oh gosh! You shot them.” I press my hands to my cheeks. It’s something I always do when I become overwhelmed, which is often. Everything that happened starts flooding back through my mind. “Should we call the police? We can’t call the police. Will you go to jail? You saved me though. But my gosh, sometimes innocent people go to jail. You think it would be self-defense or manslaughter? Your vase!” I shout the last part. “Sorry, I ramble.”
“You don’t say.” He cuts me a stare that has me pressing my lips together firmly. I sink farther down into the seat, trying not to irritate him. I know that look. I get it from most of the people in my life. The silence inside the car grows, and I fight not to fidget around. That lasts all of about two seconds before my curiosity gets the best of me.
“Was the vase that broke important? Was it a family heirloom? A gift for your mom or maybe your girlfriend?” I poke around, trying to get him to budge. I might have checked his finger for a ring. Milly, it’s not the time, I remind myself again.
“It was priceless,” he gets out between clenched teeth. Guilt fills me that he broke the vase in the process of saving me.
“Right.” I turn my head to stare out the window. Tears start to leak down my cheeks again. Why do I always have to cry? This is what my brother is always talking about. He says I’m too emotional and have no control over anything I do. “I’m really sorry.” I try to calm my body, knowing how I get when I’m upset. But a hiccup still escapes me.
“Don’t cry,” he orders.
I sniff, take a long breath, and close my eyes. I try to do the breathing meditation exercise the therapist taught me. I hate them. They’re boring and don’t work, but I try anyway. What do I have to lose at this point?
“What’s your name?”
My eyes pop back open. “Milly.”
“Milly.” He repeats. My name rolls gruffly off his tongue. Some of the cold that was settling in starts to fade away. “Don’t worry about the vase. It’s fine.”
“Really?” I sniffle.
“Really.” He flicks me a glance, his eyes locking with mine for a long moment. “Did they hurt you anywhere?” He checks the road again before giving me a once-over.
“I fell.” I slip my fingers into my thick stockings that are ripped open on both knees. I wince, realizing that I’m bleeding a little. His hand comes down on my thigh. I freeze when he runs his enormous hand down to my knee.
I swallow, seeing how his hand engulfs my thigh. I mean, I realized he was big, but dang. The more my nerves start to settle, the more I’m able to really take him in.
“You’re bleeding.” His hand flexes. The pressure shoots up my legs and between my thighs. Oh goodness.
“It’s okay. Could be worse. I could be in the back of that van. The one man said he was going to…” I trail off, not even able to finish my sentence.
College was supposed to be different for me. I was going to have a new start. A new me. It wasn’t working out that way, though. My plan was to blend in. Too bad I did it a little too well. So well that no one noticed me at all. Well, not until tonight. But the bad men noticing me had nothing to really do with me. That had everything to do with my father.
“They’re dead now. They’re not going to do anything to you.”
“There were more of them.” I recall the second van. “You almost let them make off with me,” I remind not only him but myself. He was so mad. I think back, running through everything that happened. It was all so quick and jumbled together at first, but now it’s all settling in my mind.
The memory of how I had to beg him to save me is front and center. The tears start to well up in my eyes again. It shouldn't be a shock. I lift his hand from off my leg then pull both legs up into the seat with me. I wrap my arms around them as the coldness starts to return.