Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Huck?” she asked, her voice shaking.
He didn’t answer but instead turned on the radio.
“Huck, I’m sorry. I did not mean to make you so mad.”
It was the perfect kidnapping. He had just been a hero on her own show carrying that girl out of the forest.
Where was the dog? What had he done with the dog? She’d probably hear him if he sat in the front seat. Had Huck put him in the back bed of the truck? In the storm?
“Huck, you can’t do this. You know you can’t do this.” Oh, God. Huck Rivers was the River Reaper and his last name was Rivers. He’d made a joke out of his own last name. He mocked them all.
She took several deep breaths, trying to dislodge the blindfold but failing. Her tightly bound hands were starting to lose feeling now. “You have to let me go. You can’t do this.”
He still didn’t answer.
“Huck, the least you can do is talk to me. We were engaged. Remember?”
He hit the brakes, and she slammed against the side of the crate, her shoulder protesting in pain. He chuckled low, and she strained to listen.
“Huck, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I promise. You don’t have to do this. No one believes you’re a serial killer.”
He was being stubborn. She remembered that side of him. But she’d never been terrified of him.
They drove over several large potholes, and she bumped up and down, bruising her body against the edges of the crate. Finally, they came to a stop.
She shrieked as loudly as she could. Her senses sharpened as he put the vehicle in Park and opened his door and then the door at her feet. Soon coldness and rain washed over her as he opened the crate and wrenched her out. She screamed, and he slapped her. Her head ricocheted back.
“Don’t do this. Please don’t do this, Huck.”
She was crying, trying to reason with him and fight at the same time. He easily hauled her over frozen ground and tossed her to her knees. The ice cut into her pants. She tried to remember what she had gleaned from the crime scenes. Had he brought her to a river? The sound of cracking ice came through the night. It sounded as if he jumped up and down on the frozen river.
She felt around for any sort of weapon. He hacked for several more minutes, and she tried to crawl away, but she couldn’t see anything. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her back.
“Huck, please don’t do this. I’ll help you,” she begged.
A knife touched her hand, and then the ropes fell away. She tried to reach for the blindfold, but he slapped her hand. She kept her hands down. Okay, she might not be able to see, but she could fight.
Why had he freed her hands? Did he want her to fight the ice when he tried to drown her?
He grabbed her hair and dragged her toward the sound of bubbling water. She gathered all her strength and pivoted on the ice, kicking him in the legs. He grunted and fell, crashing next to her. She punched out as hard as she could, connecting with soft tissue. He howled. Was that his eye?
It had felt like an eye.
She scrambled up and ran, ripping off the blindfold as she went. He lumbered behind her. She could now see that they were at the side of a creek near a forest. Running with all her strength, she barreled into the tree line, cutting and pivoting and turning with every chance she got. She heard something crash behind her. Had he tripped? Had he fallen? She didn’t care. She kept going, her chin down, running as fast as she could through the trees, trying to lose him.
Finally, she barreled around an outcropping and ducked down deep in a clump of bushes to gather her breath. She was freezing, but she was alive. Her cheek hurt from where he’d hit her.
Where was he?
She peeked out, watching. Only falling rain sounded around her. She waited for at least a half an hour. In the distance, a truck rumbled. Had he given up? Had he gone away? She stayed perfectly still as the rain beat down on her for another half an hour, maybe more. She lost track of time.
Holding her breath, she finally stepped out of the bushes. Her eyes adjusted to the dark night. If she followed the river the way it flowed, she would eventually reach safety. Ducking her head, she kept moving, stubbornly placing one foot in front of the other. Shock tried to take her, but she staved it off.
How could Huck Rivers be a serial killer? How could she have missed that in him?
She soon came upon a series of cabins that had been closed for the winter. Her breath catching, she continued on until she saw lights in a larger home beside the river. She tripped several times but made it down the long driveway to the front door, where she started pounding. After a while, lights flicked on inside, and then the door opened to reveal an elderly couple in warm-looking bathrobes.