Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
That was his goal then too.
Fine, I could do that.
It was for the best.
I considered ignoring him completely and just running out the door, grasping on to whatever tenuous free will I had remaining.
But my body was still weak. There was a heaviness to my limbs, and there was still a cavernous emptiness in my stomach, growling at me to replace calories, to store as many as I could.
Gritting my teeth, I sat down at the table, hating that I was relying on Knox to feed me. Sure, I could’ve shouldered my way into the kitchen, insisted on cooking my own food. But that would’ve meant having to get close to him.
No, sitting at the table glowering in denial served me much better.
It wasn’t long before another steaming plate was put in front of me, beside it a mug of tea.
“More beans, great,” I said sarcastically, even though it went against the manners instilled in me by my grandmother to be so ungrateful.
Not that I needed to be grateful to Knox for anything.
“I’m going on a supply run today.” I hadn’t expected him to speak to me, his voice sending shivers up my spine. “I’ll get more food.”
“No meat,” I said once I’d swallowed my first mouthful. Again, flavorful, delicious. Different from last night. Cinnamon and cumin married perfectly in a balance of sweet and savory.
I didn’t look up at him, but there was a loaded pause. “No meat,” he conceded, a defeat of his own.
My mouth turned up at the corners as I ate. Victory. It was sweet.
“If there is anything else you require …” He put something on the table beside me.
A notepad and pen.
I stared at the innocuous items and what they represented. Autonomy. A little bit of it anyway. Was it an olive branch? Was it a shard of his shield that I’d managed to chip away at?
I mulled this over while I chewed, Knox walking away from me.
What would the power move be here? Write a long and complicated and obscure list?
No, that wouldn’t work. I didn’t think this new dynamic stretched so far as him going beyond the small store at the base of the mountain.
Would writing nothing at all be the bigger power move? Communicating I needed nothing from him. But that was a lie.
I chewed and swallowed the food, no longer tasting it.
This constant thinking about each decision, mannerism, how it might alter the situation was exhausting.
As if my decisions and mannerisms could alter Knox. That was like expecting water to alter stone.
Which it did.
Eventually.
After years.
Hundreds of them.
I didn’t have years with him. Maybe weeks. If I was lucky. Or unlucky, depending on how you viewed the situation.
Whatever time I had left, despite the company, it was likely the last of the tenuous freedom I’d ever enjoy in my life.
I had to make lemonade, I guessed.
So I wrote a list.
Knox
She was driving me insane.
I thought I’d done it. Scared her enough that she wouldn’t approach me. That she’d avoid me like her life depended on it.
Which it did.
Her life as she knew it depended on her staying as far away from me as possible.
But then again, her life as she knew it was over whether she stayed away from me or not.
Stone had made up his mind about her. He didn’t just want her. He already considered her his. And Stone didn’t give up what was his. Not until he’d squeezed every ounce of life, goodness and will from it. Until it was dead.
I cracked my knuckles, sitting at the rickety outdoor table, chain-smoking.
I’d given up the habit years ago because I’d been determined not to have any vices, any weaknesses. Yet inexplicably, on the last supply trip before the mountain, I’d bought a carton of them.
I couldn’t even explain to myself why I did it then. I’d ordered her to stay in the car, as a test. I left the keys in it. I’d expected her to drive off. It was the stupid option but one most empty-headed mouth breathers would’ve made, desperate for escape. It was the beginning of my mind games. Breaking her, showing her how truly helpless she was.
There was a tracker in the car, obviously. And I’d parked an extra vehicle less than a mile away from the store, paid some local to keep it in his garage.
The car wasn’t only there for that purpose. It was a backup. In case something happened on the mountain. I couldn’t say what, but I’d learned in this life that you needed backup plans, multiple escape routes and secrets.
Secrets were what kept you alive.
Though Piper had been smart up until that point—not flagging down strangers for help at multiple gas station bathroom stops—I’d reasoned the reality of her situation was setting in. She’d be getting desperate, with civilization getting more and more sparse, making way for the wilds of Appalachia.