Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Then it’s all over. The car crashes into a tree, the impact stopping us in an instant. At first I’m stunned when the airbag hits my face and chest, but I shake it off, pushing the deflating bag away and looking into the passenger side mirror once it’s visible. He’s not back there—the road is quiet. I doubt he could come to a dead stop all at once, as fast as he was going, but he’s coming. I know it deep down in my gut.
“Dad. Are you okay? Oh, my God.” My heart’s still pounding when I turn to him. It feels like I’m moving in slow motion as I clear the deflating airbag away and find him knocked out cold. “No, no, Dad. Wake up. Come on, wake up!” I don’t want to shake him too hard, though, since I don’t know if he’s injured. All I know is he’s slumped over the wheel, but when I hold my hand up close to his face, I feel his breath on the backs of my fingers.
I unbuckle my belt and turn in the seat, scanning the area through the rear window. There’s smoke rising up from the front of the car. What should I do? Should I try to get him out in case there’s a fire? I don’t know if the smoke means something’s already burning. I’m not sure I could move him or whether I should even try. I don’t know anything.
One thing I can do is finally reach the phone. Once I have it in my hand, I decide to dial 911. Until it occurs to me I have no idea where we are, exactly. I wasn’t paying attention to the mile markers and I don’t know the number of the exit we were approaching. But none of that matters, not when Dad needs help.
My eyes flick up to the road, searching for some kind of landmark, and land on a car as it backs its way down the shoulder of the road. A car with damage to its front passenger side. A car that comes to a rolling stop.
“Oh, god!” I drop the phone from my shaking hands and reach for Dad. “Dad! Please, wake up! Help me!”
It’s no use. I might as well be alone, and again, I can’t help the thoughts of Mom that flood my mind as the car door opens, then slams shut.
He’s coming for us. He’s going to kill us...
All at once, a sense of calm washes over me. Everything comes into sharp focus. It could be the sight of Dominic sauntering around the car, his silhouette lit by his headlights, before he begins strolling across the soft ground torn up by speeding tires. He acts like he’s on a leisurely walk.
Mom might have been alone and defenseless, but I’m not, because driving isn’t the only thing Dad taught me how to do. Twisting around, I open the glove box, where the gun he told Callum about sits. There’s a round in the chamber when I check.
Please, Mom. If you’re there, if you can help, I need you.
“Anybody alive in there?” he taunts, laughing like the maniac he is.
Any lingering nerves or questions about whether this is the right thing to do vanish when I hear that menacing laugh. He wants to kill me. My father. My baby. No fucking way. If it’s a choice between my life and his, I’m choosing me. My first instinct is to jump out of the car and start firing but I have to be smart about this. The element of surprise is what’s going to give me a leg up.
I open the door a little, then keep my right arm pressed to my stomach with the gun tucked under my left. “Please... Don’t do this...” I moan like I’m injured. I raise my right foot and step out, planting it firmly on the ground. “Please, Dominic. I think he’s dead.”
“Boo-fucking-hoo,” he retorts. “That’s the entire point. If you get out of the car like a good girl and don’t fight, I won’t have to hurt you. But if you pull the shit you did back at the basement compound with that knife, I can’t make any promises.”
“I’m coming. Just, please, don’t hurt me.” I climb out slowly, my body hunched over and my once racing heart now beating normally. There’s no fear. No doubt. Only the certainty of what needs to be done. He must die.
“Look at you. Not so brave now, are you? No knife for you to pull on me, huh?”
“You knew this is what would happen, didn’t you? It was your plan all along.” I don’t know why I ask the question. It’s not going to change anything but it will confirm how fucked up he is, and give me another reason to blow him away.