Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 74457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Three days. We’re killing him in three days.”
She stopped walking. I went on for a few more paces before looking back.
“You’re kidding. Three days?”
“There’s no reason to wait.”
“There are a million reasons to wait! For example, I still don’t know how you plan on actually killing him!”
“You don’t need to.” I showed her my teeth in a wicked grin. God, I loved teasing her. Riling her up was part of the fun in all this.
“Jarrod—”
I held up a hand. “Relax. I’ll tell you everything before we start. But I need you to be ready in three days. Get yourself mentally set.”
“Thursday night.” She nodded sharply. “I’ll be ready.”
“Good.” I began walking again. “No turning back. No changing our minds.”
“No turning back.”
She walked next to me, head held high as we followed the path back toward the other neighborhood, and I swear she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. She glowed like a ghost, like a witch, like a wraith. The moonlight outlined her body in silver and I could’ve sworn she was floating above the ground, her hair lifting into the air like static electricity coursed over her skin, and I wanted to touch her, to reach out and run my fingers along her arms to feel the shock of her presence, but I kept my hands balled into fists.
Three days to get ready.
Then that asshole was going to die.
And afterwards?
Well, I didn’t know would happen.
But I hoped it would be fun.
10
Cora
Three days. Three long days. They dragged like years, like millennia.
Each night, I texted with Jarrod nonstop with my burner. We went over the plan in detail, again and again, and I had to admit that it might actually work.
It wasn’t perfect. There was room for error, but it wasn’t foolproof.
This could still go wrong.
But that didn’t matter.
When Thursday night rolled around, I put on black jeans, smudged gray and black running shoes, and a black hooded sweatshirt. I waited anxiously in my room for ten, eleven, twelve at night, before sneaking downstairs and out the back door. The house was asleep and nobody heard me walk out to the street, head down a couple blocks, and climb into Jarrod’s truck.
“Anyone see you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. It’s quiet.”
He squinted at the sky. “Full moon.”
“That’s good, right? Easier to see?”
“Maybe.” He seemed grim as he began to drive. He wore all black like me, but somehow it was fashionable on him. The hoodie clung to his massive, muscular chest, and the jeans showed off his well-formed legs and calves. I was probably sick in the head for ogling his body right before we went to murder someone, but I had to admit Jarrod was one hell of a specimen.
He pulled into the neighborhood. There were more cars than last time and he had to squeeze in behind a minivan. Apparently one of the houses was having a big party, and several people lingered outside.
Jarrod checked his watch, frowning. “We need to get going.”
“Maybe they’ll go in soon.”
“We don’t have time to wait. Silver goes to bed soon.”
I sighed and followed him out into the night. The young guys sitting outside of their house were busy smoking weed, the smell of it thick and heavy in the air, and none of them bothered to look over as we walked past. Still, they might remember a big guy and a small girl in all black if the cops came asking questions.
Didn’t matter. We’d come this far and weren’t turning back. Jarrod strode between the houses, and as we skirted the fence on the left, a dog let out a few aggressive snarls and yaps.
I flinched away. Jarrod grabbed my wrist and pulled me along at a jog until we reached the safety of the forest.
“Bad luck,” he said softly, glaring back at the houses.
I was about to ask if he wanted to turn back, but kept my mouth shut. He’d only see that as weakness, and I knew he didn’t trust me already. If he moved forward then I’d go with him all the way to the end.
He strode on into the underbrush. I kept pace, smacking away small branches. The full moon did help make things easier to see, but only marginally. We found the path after a little bit of walking, and he checked his watch again, the digital face glowing sickly green. Neither of us had cellphones—those could be traced.
“We’re on schedule.”
“Are you sure this’ll work?”
“I’ve been scoping him out every night for the past three nights, and it’s always the same. Trust me, this’ll work. If it doesn’t, we’ll just have spent the evening sitting in the woods staring at his house for no reason. Could be worse.”
“Yeah, right, could be worse.”
We walked on in silence.
I was about to help kill a man.