The Woman in the Woods (Costa Family #8) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Costa Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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I would just get him out of the storm, give him my jerky and some water, then bring him into the closest town to give to the local rescue to hopefully find his owner.

“Sweet baby,” I called as I continued to walk, the cabin becoming nothing but a memory as I followed what I hoped were the sounds of the puppy ahead of me.

It wasn’t long before the sky opened up, pelting relentless rain down on me, soaking me through in moments as I continued to trudge on.

It wasn’t until a flash and crack of lightning filled the sky, completely illuminating the woods for a precious second, that I finally saw him. Cowering next to a downed tree.

“Oh, honey,” I cooed at him, walking slowly forward, waving the jerky in front of me like a peace offering.

His head poked out, sniffing, before another crash of thunder had him curling into himself and trembling.

Giving the slow and easy method the middle finger, I tucked away the jerky, put down the lantern, then lunged for him, grabbing a hold of him, then yanking him up and off the ground, crushing him to my chest, and wrapping him up tight as he struggled.

“Okay, you’re okay. You’re safe now,” I said, tightening my hold when the thunder clapped again, making him shake harder.

It was standing there in the woods with a terrified puppy, that the lightning flashed again, illuminating something I’d missed because I’d been so focused on him.

Proof that humans were even shittier than I already thought.

A big, rusty dog crate set a few yards away, the door ripped off, and two other puppies inside.

Someone had dumped these babies.

In the woods.

With no food or water or chance of survival.

Like freaking garbage.

“Are those your brothers and sisters?” I cooed at the puppy as I carefully leaned down to grab the lantern, holding it in one of the hands I had wrapped around him as I moved forward, wondering if I was strong enough to carry a crate with three puppies back to the cabin.

It didn’t matter if I was strong enough.

I would do it, damnit.

But as I got closer, I realized that it wouldn’t be necessary.

Because those puppies weren’t just trying to find some makeshift shelter from the rain. They weren’t shaking and whimpering.

They were still.

They were dead.

“Oh, buddy,” I whimpered at the puppy, realizing he’d had to witness them dying, had to leave them to try to find food, then made his way back to them when he was scared. “I hope that monster that left you here like this has his rotten heart rot out of his chest,” I said, blinking away the tears that started to fall again.

More grief.

“When the storm stops, baby, we will come back. I will… bury them, okay?” I said, thinking of a small wood or stone graveyard for the sweet souls lost too soon. They deserved that dignity.

Sniffling against the tears that kept falling, I turned, making my way back in the direction of the cabin.

Or so I thought.

Because as I kept walking, the little wobble in my belly started to tell me that I’d been walking too long, that I was hopelessly turned around.

“I’m sorry buddy. What a shitty savior I turned out to be, huh?” I murmured, my body jolting hard at a clap of thunder that had the ground beneath us trembling.

I kept walking, despite knowing that you were supposed to sit tight when you were lost.

But that was assuming that someone would be missing you, would be looking for you. And the only person who might be looking for me was someone I didn’t want to be found by.

So I kept walking.

And walking.

There was a strange sound at some point, something not storm related, that had me tensing as I moved around a tree.

And there it was.

There he was.

The source of the sound.

Someone digging in the rain.

I thought that perhaps I’d traveled far enough that I was on someone else’s property.

Until I saw the man move away from the hole he was digging, squat down in front of something dark on the ground.

A bag, it seemed, as he unzipped it.

Then started to pull something out of it.

No.

Not something.

Someone.

A body.

He was pulling a body out of it.

Dead, judging by the way it just flopped as he moved it.

My mind flashed with the potential of this being the guy who was after me, before I tamped it down.

No.

This was someone else.

Someone burying bodies in the woods.

Maybe the same bastard who abandoned the puppies.

As if on cue, the puppy let out a whimper as the thunder rolled.

It was a split second decision as the lightning flashed, lighting up the sky, to just… turn and run.

Whatever that was, I needed to have nothing to do with it. I was in enough of my own trouble. I didn’t need to be getting into anyone else’s.


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