Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I squeezed off one shot, enough to make the man pause and duck, so Raff could escape, then I flew out too.
But there were two other men between me and the driveway.
Raff was already reaching the side of the car.
Then there were two men coming out of the back of the house, likely alerted by the sounds of the gunshots.
I would never get past them with their semiautomatics with endless firepower.
“Fuck,” I hissed to myself, ducking behind the building, hopefully before they even saw me, then flying into the woods, finding myself thankful for the cover even as the underbrush nipped at my legs.
With the woods masking me, I turned back, finding Raff still in the driveway, likely trying to wait for me.
But the men were descending on him, the ones from the house and the ones from the garage as well.
The engine revved as he suddenly backed out of the drive at a pace that had my stomach pitching.
But, to be fair, Raff was the far better driver. Especially defensively. If anyone could drive backward at a fast pace without crashing, it was him.
I held my breath, watching as the men chased him, bullets ringing out, but none of them hit. Or hit true enough to stop him.
Because within two minutes, our car was gone.
With it, any easy means of escape for me.
But I was just going to have to find my own way through these fucking woods.
I didn’t want to go any closer to the house, so I walked deeper into the forest, wincing each time my feet cracked a twig.
Not that I needed to worry for much longer, anyway.
Once the men pulled their wounded out of the garage and into the house, the crew left unharmed suddenly peeled out of there in their own trucks.
If my math was right, it left two wounded men and one unharmed one in the house.
And no other vehicles for me to hotwire and steal to get away with.
It looked like I had a long-ass day of hiking ahead of me.
With a resigned sigh, trying not to worry too much about Raff, knowing he was capable of taking care of himself, I made an arc around the property as the cold started to seep into my bones, making me wish I’d worn a fucking jacket since it was only going to get worse as the night came on.
I couldn’t tell you why I found myself closing in on it, all I knew was, all of a sudden, that extra shed was really fucking close, and I wondered if maybe it would have something inside of it that might help me for a night, or possibly longer, alone in the woods.
I didn’t dare go around it to enter the front door, but there was a window at the side, hidden from the view of the house thanks to another giant stack of crap gathered about.
Decision made, I pulled open the door, then hefted myself inside.
It wasn’t until I got to my feet inside that I realized I wasn’t alone.
There was a woman toward the far end of the shed.
With a giant shackle around her ankle.
CHAPTER TWO
Vienna
It was getting cold.
With all the other things I had to worry about, that was at the forefront of my mind as I paced the small space of the shed, the chain clinking and swishing as I moved, the cuff a cold ache around my ankle.
I knew that staying still would stop it from biting into my skin, from rubbing it raw.
But I couldn’t seem to force myself to just sit in the corner and wait for him to come back.
Besides, I told myself, letting my muscles atrophy was not going to help me when, one day, I could find a way to get out of the shackle, then make a run for it.
Maybe that was wishful thinking after so many months locked up, but the hope was probably the only thing keeping me from just refusing to eat and drink the meager rations that were brought to me, and let myself dehydrate to death.
I think, when I’d first been tossed in here, some part of me expected to wish for death. And, sure, I had those moments. But I’d been shocked at how strong the human will to survive could be.
Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but one of these days, he would screw up. Leave something behind I could use to pick the lock. Be caught unaware and give me an opening to bash him over the head, take the key, and set myself free, then make a run for it.
If I could survive captivity and everything else I’d endured all these months, I damn sure could survive a few days or weeks in the woods.
Not if it got too cold, though.
I might not even survive in this shed if it kept getting colder.