Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 266(@200wpm)___ 213(@250wpm)___ 177(@300wpm)
And I don’t know who I’m more afraid of.
Rook
She doesn’t stop shaking.
Not when Kane takes the first turn too fast or when Calloway tells him we’re clear. And not when the town disappears behind fog and trees.
Kylie sits pressed against the door, arms wrapped tightly around herself like she’s trying to hold her body together by force. Her breaths come shallow and uneven, panic spilling through the cracks she doesn’t know how to seal.
I keep my hands to myself even though everything inside me wants to reach out and pull her into my arms.
“Rook,” she says, her voice breaking on my name. “I need you to tell me what’s happening right now.”
I don’t answer. Not because I don’t want to. But because telling her the truth means I’m shattering every sense of normalcy she’s ever known.
Pretty sure you’ve already done that.
I steal a glance at Kylie, and tears shine in her big, beautiful eyes. Her breathing gets worse as she tries to hold herself together. Her chest hitches like she can’t get enough air, no matter how hard she tries.
“Hey,” I say quietly. “Look at me.”
She doesn’t.
“Kylie.”
“Tell me what is going on,” she whispers, but her tone is sharp. “Tell me the truth, Rook! Tell me why three men were in my driveway this morning, trying to force me to go with them. And tell me why you stepped in and did God-knows-what to them and forced me to go with you.” Her eyes are wild, and she bores her gaze into my skull. “Tell me!” she screams at the top of her lungs, and I don’t miss Cal flinch from the high-pitched outburst.
“I know you deserve answers,” I say, a sad sigh escaping my lungs. “But it’s very fucking complicated, okay? And the short answer is that we’re saving you.”
“Saving me? From what exactly? Those men? Why wouldn’t you just call the freaking cops?”
“Saving you from Holland Thorne,” Cal chimes in quietly, his knee cocked and bouncing in the front passenger seat. “And those three men who are definitely connected to him.”
“Saving me from Holland?” she snorts, her whole demeanor perking up with the ridiculous notion that this is all a simple misunderstanding. “How in the hell is Holland connected to those men? No! What are you guys talking about? It’s fine! I know Holland. He’s actually nice to me.” She rolls her eyes at me and then proceeds to punch me a good fifteen times in the chest with both of her tiny, furious fists. “As opposed to the way you spend your time glaring across the rink and looking down your nose at me when you drive past my house. Or the fact that you just forced me into your car! You kidnapped me!”
I laugh. I can’t help it. This whole fucked-up situation is so absurd it’s becoming comical.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you have no clue what you’re talking about.” I grind my jaw, and my voice shakes as I pound a fist into my own chest, the anger returning in full force. “Trust me, I’d rather not have to do this shit at all. I’d rather have some kind of say in my life too, but the nuts and bolts of it is that I don’t. And you don’t either. So here we are.”
“What do you purport to know about my life that I don’t?” she yells back. “Huh? You think you’re some fucking psychic, Rook? That I don’t have control of my own destiny? You don’t know fuck all about me, much less what you have to do by kidnapping me, for Pete’s sake! I gave you the benefit of the doubt before, but I’m done now. I will not be on tonight’s news!”
She rolls down her window frantically, leaning out into the wind and screaming at the top of her lungs. We’re the only car on this back road and there isn’t a house in sight, but she keeps screaming in the hopes that someone will hear her.
“Kylie, calm down,” I try to reassure, but she just screams harder and yanks on the door handle like she’s fully prepared to dive out of a moving vehicle.
Though, Kane was smart enough to put the child locks on. He is also sly enough to roll her window up and lock it when she pauses her screaming to catch her breath.
But Kylie’s hands are trembling now, fingers digging into her sleeves and her eyes darting to the windows like she’s mapping escape routes that don’t exist.
I lean closer, keeping my voice low, steady. “Kylie, breathe.”
“Fuck you, Rook!” she screams directly in my face. “Fuck you!”
And then she starts sobbing into her hands.
When I try to touch her shoulder, try to calm her down, she pushes me away.
“I hate you!” she cries, and it breaks my goddamn heart. “Why are you doing this to me?”