Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
She can count down the days. I’ll even buy her a calendar so she can cross them off one by one. Three months. She’ll live. And wasn’t that the only point of this whole plan? To let her live?
But being here in bed with her, with my arms around her… I dunno. I feel like the bad guy. And I hate feeling like the bad guy.
Collin Creed needs to go. The decision to kill him wasn’t my call, but even if it was, I would’ve come to the same conclusion as my father. He knows way too much. And not only that, he knows me.
He needs to go. They all need to go.
I don’t think that’s occurred to Clover just yet. That Collin’s friends will go down with him.
All my thoughts get stuck here as I let that last bit echo in my thoughts.
It’s enough to keep me up for hours.
Because they’re not just Collin’s friends.
They’re my friends too.
When the sun rises and Clover begins to stir, I’ve still got my arms around her. I’m not sure I actually slept at all. Dozed would be a better word to describe what I’ve been doing for the past seven hours.
Clover slept soundly, though. So she’s looking—and probably feeling—a lot better this morning than she did last night.
She wriggles free of my embrace, turns over, and then lets out a long sigh.
“That’s not a good sign.”
She looks over her shoulder, side-eying me. “What?”
“That tired sigh. We’ve got a very long day ahead of us and I’ll need you to be in top performance condition when we meet with Ike.”
She gives me a little scoff. “I grew up in Disciple, Riggs. I know how to act.”
“I bet you do.”
She throws the covers off, and sits up in bed, swinging her feet over the side. “I need a shower. Can I take a shower?”
“Of course. I can’t take you down below looking like some kind of…” I search for a word that won’t be too disparaging, but she comes up with one first.
“Kidnapping victim?”
“I was gonna say ‘vagrant,’ but that works too.”
She stands up, clearly done with me, and heads straight for the door. “I need to get some clean clothes out of the trailer.”
I get up too and cut her off by placing an arm in front of the exit. “I’ll go with you.”
“Of course you will.”
I slip my boots on without lacing them up and we go downstairs. Outside, the sun is bright and it’s a very nice late-summer morning. I parked the trailer behind the barn, but it’s visible from where we’re standing on the back porch, so Clover starts heading in that direction, ignoring me.
“So… we’re back to animosity, are we? Even though I’ve found a way to keep you alive?”
She doesn’t turn to answer me, but I can practically hear the eyeroll she’s doing.
“I am saving you, ya know.”
“You’re the only reason I need saving, Riggs. I haven’t done a single thing wrong.”
“That doesn’t invalidate my point.”
She stops and whirls around, locking her angry eyes directly with mine. “You win, OK? It’s not your fault, it’s just my bad luck, and holding me prisoner in some underground cell for three months to keep me out of the way while you murder Collin Creed is no big deal. There. How’s that? Do you feel absolved now?”
“It’s the best I can do.”
“Fine. I get it. But can we just stop this?” She does a little wag with her finger here, pointing back and forth at the two of us.
“Stop what?”
“The banter. I’m not interested in you. At all.”
I make a face. “I’m not interested in you either.”
“Then stop talking to me.”
Before I can say anything else, she whirls back around and continues walking, briefly disappearing around the corner until I catch up.
She goes right to the trailer and opens it up, then lets out a long sigh as she drops her head in a gesture of defeat.
“What’s wrong now?”
“I didn’t pack this trailer, so I have no idea where my clothes are.”
I step forward and peek inside the trailer. It’s a complete mess. Like it was packed by random hotel staff who knew they didn’t have to deal with it on the other side of things.
I start pulling boxes out of the trailer without commenting, and after a couple of seconds, she helps. It takes about twenty minutes of time we don’t really have before she finds an acceptable outfit. It’s hiking pants, a long-sleeve shirt, and a modern pair of hiking boots. It’s all very matchy in various two-tone combinations of black and burnt-orange. Then she stuffs a backpack with similar outfits and a few other things, and then we put all her shit back into the trailer.
We go back into the house and head to the second-floor bathroom. She stops in front of the door, crosses her arms, and looks up at me. “That shower invitation was a one-time thing.”