Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I tried to hold onto that hope as we finished cleaning the kitchen and made our way back to our room. We watched some TV, and it wasn’t long before we’d settled in for the night. Even though he’d slept for the better part of the day, Toby fell asleep pretty quickly. I was exhausted and wanted to do the same.
But as soon as I closed my eyes, I felt the memories creeping back in. It had been days. They were just as fresh as they were the first night. I tried to push them from my mind, but it wasn’t long before I heard, “There’s my girl.”
It was just a dream.
It was just in my head.
But my breath hitched when I remembered the sight of Dylan standing at the bottom of my front porch steps with a sinister smirk. It was hard to believe that I ever cared for him, but I did. I thought he was a good man who was going to love us and take care of us.
I couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Dylan... What are you doing here?”
“I came to see you. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he drawled, his voice dripping with false sweetness.
But I knew what lay beneath it—rage, cruelty.
“You need to go, Dylan. I don’t want you here.”
“Don’t be like that. I just want to talk.”
He started up the steps, and each click of his heel was a reminder of every bruise and every broken bone that he’d given me over the past year. I wanted to scream, to call for help, but the words stuck in my throat.
When he reached the top step, he lunged forward, grabbing my arm like a vice, making sure I couldn’t get away from him. “Please, Dylan.”
“Please what?” He leaned in, and with his mouth inches from my ear, he growled, “Please let you go? I already told you! You’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”
I could smell the stench of alcohol and sweat that clung to him like a second skin, and it made my stomach churn. I tried to yank my arm free from his grasp, but his fingers just dug in deeper, making it impossible to get away from him. I looked up at him and pleaded, “Please don’t do this.”
“You did this!” His nostrils started to flare, and I knew what was coming. I lowered my head and winced as he roared, “You left me! You didn’t even tell me. You just packed your shit and ran!”
“You know why I left.”
“Because you found yourself another guy to fuck over! Bet he’s in there right now, but I’ve got news for him and anyone else you might have holed up in there. You’re mine! I’ll kill you before I let anyone else have you.”
“Please, Dylan,” I cried. “I just...”
My heart pounded in my chest. He hadn’t made a move yet, and I could already feel the impact of his hand on my face, the sharp, stabbing pain of my wrist crumbling beneath his grip, and the utter helplessness. He raised his other hand, and I braced myself, eyes squeezing shut, waiting for the inevitable blow.
I jerked awake, and my heart was racing as I shot up in bed. My breath came in ragged gasps, and with the strange bed and furniture, it took me a minute to remember where I was. I was safe. I knew that, but the fear was still there. It lingered, just like the cold sweat that clung to my skin.
Damn. Even in my sleep, there was no escaping him.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I would ever truly be free of him.
Ghost
“You ready?”
“Hell, yeah. I’ve been ready.”
That wasn’t exactly true. I hadn’t slept well and had been running behind all day. I blamed it on our new guests and the onslaught of bad memories their arrival had brought with them. I was hoping that my late-night shift at the Vault would give me a much-needed distraction. “Then, let’s get rolling.”
As we headed out to the parking lot, Rusty turned to me and asked, “Bikes or truck?”
“Better take the truck.” There was no missing the disappointment in his expression when I said, “It’s supposed to storm tonight and will keep storming through the next three days.”
He nodded, and we both continued over to my SUV. We loaded up, and half an hour later, we were standing at our posts and scanning the crowd. The Vault was one of the more popular strip clubs in Little Rock—partly because of our smoking hot dancers and partly because of the high-quality pot we sold on the side. The club not only gave us a front for the goods but also brought in a steady income on its own. It was a win-win for us all.
The bright lights flickered across the floor, bathing the patrons and dancers in various shades of blue, purple, and red. Rusty and I stood at the entrance with our arms crossed and our eyes trained on the crowd, constantly monitoring for any sign of trouble—because it was coming.