Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Grab your things,” Principal Gregory says when she sees my hands are empty. I nod. Grabbing my things means that whatever she’s calling me to her office for is going to take a while because I won’t be back to class today, at least not this one.
A foreboding pricks at the back of my neck, and it’s not from all the eyes watching my every move. It’s the dread pitting in my stomach and a feeling like everything is about to change.
Again.
I gather my bag and my books and wrack my brain as to what school-related thing this could be about, but I come up empty.
I make my way to the front of the room for the second time. Only the tapping of a pencil against a desk and the popping of gum can be heard along with the echo of my shapeless black shoes against the linoleum.
Principal Gregory holds the door open, and I follow her silently to her office with my head down and my long hair draped around my face like a shield.
She allows me to go in first, and it’s not until my knees have brushed one of the two chairs in front of her desk that I look up to see a police officer standing at the window with his broad back to me. Colorful tattoos take up every inch of space on his arms. His long dark hair is tied together at the nape of his neck under his hat. I feel like I know this man, somehow, or maybe it’s just deja vu.
Regardless, I begin to relax. I have no business with the police. Not that they could possibly know of, anyway. Whatever the officer is here for is probably just a misunderstanding of some sort.
Maybe, it’s about one of my neighbors. One side is a drug den, and the other side is occupied by a couple who fight all hours of the day and night and scream more than they talk. It’s more likely that one killed the other and they’re looking for witnesses than me being in any sort of trouble.
Or so I think.
“I’ll leave you two alone to discuss this matter,” Principal Gregory says, reminding me of her presence. “I’ll be here to escort you out when you’re ready.” She flashes me a tight-lipped smile. An apology.
The officer waits until the door clicks shut to turn around to face me. I recognize him instantly as the man from the service station. Only now I can see his face more clearly. His dark gleaming eyes. The scar above his right eye. I’m intrigued by him the same way I was when I first spotted him.
The officer puts his hands on his belt and smirks. I return his smile, but drop it just as quickly when he speaks, his voice deep and raspy. “Hello, Frankie.”
My heart stops. My blood turns to ice. I can’t swallow. I can’t breathe.
He used my real name. He used my real fucking name.
I drop my books on the floor and dart back toward the door. I open my mouth to scream, but before a single sound escapes, he’s on me, covering my mouth with a hand that’s so large it covers most of my face. He pulls me back from the door, my hand still outstretched toward the handle that’s growing further and further away as he pulls me back. Tears prick at the back of my eyes, both from fright and from not being able to draw enough oxygen in through my nose.
My thoughts scramble together and bounce off the inside of my skull as my pulse spikes, and I grow dizzier and dizzier.
“Scream, and you’ll die,” he warns, his deep voice digging its way into my bones. “Make any noise at all, and you’ll die. Cross me, and you’ll fucking die.”
Something hard pokes me in my lower back. It only takes one glance at the reflection in the framed United States flag above Principal Gregory’s desk to see that the hard something he’s pressing into my spine is a gun.
This can’t be happening. Not now. Not yet. I made promises. I have things to finish.
I struggle against him, but he only pulls me tighter against his hard, massive chest. He pulls on my arm and cuffs my wrist behind my back with one hand while the other stays firmly over my mouth. I pull my wrist away but am only rewarded with a yanking of my other hand and a tightening off the cuffs as the other is wrenched behind my back.
His lips are next to my ear. Never have whispered words carried such warning.
“You can either walk out of here with me SILENTLY and without incident or you can scream and call for help. Either way, you’ll still be leaving this school with me. One way is neat and clean. Nobody gets hurt. The other will have me shooting our way out. Everyone gets hurt. Your choice, hellion. You understand?” he asks.