Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
My legs seem frozen, yet they move me forward. Terrified and without any other option, I move so quickly my body slams into the concrete wall straight ahead.
I reach back to the door, my hand slipping on the metal doorknob as terror races through my blood.
I try to close the door, I try to lock him in the house and escape, but it’s too late. The dog is too close. He charges for me. His large muscular body propels him at a speed I can’t match. A scream is ripped from my throat as I take the stairs two at a time.
The dog’s teeth clamp down on my legs near the top of the stairs and I fall hard, landing on my side with half my body still on the cement stairs and the upper half laying in a mixture of mud and grass. The dog releases me in an instant, but the moment I move my legs, a rough and vicious snarl rips through the air.
Jay.
My heart shatters in my chest.
His father had dogs too. How could he? How could he do this to me?
I try to get to my knees, to make a feeble attempt to run, but the black dog snarls and bites down on my arm the moment I lift it. He’s so close, so massive. He must be ninety, or maybe a hundred pounds and built with speed and muscle.
I’m no match for him. My cheek rests on the grass as my body stills. I'm frozen with fear. The dog doesn’t bite down, and he doesn’t growl, he merely holds me in place.
Waiting for his owner.
The dog’s teeth feel so sharp as I whimper. My body’s shaking, freezing in the cold dirt and earth at the bottom of the cement stairs. The early morning sun rises, and it's enough light that I can see around me. Trees, open land… nothing else. Nowhere to go, no one to call for help.
Just like before. He’s dead. I have to remind myself. The monster is dead. He didn’t burn in the fire, but he was there, buried in the dirt.
It’s just Jay. He’s the one doing all this.
I pray that it’s him. I pray for him to come to me and make this all go away. Make the memories go away.
The most fucked up part about it all, is that I don’t hate him. I wish I could find it in me to focus on that strong emotion, but it’s absent.
Even as fear cripples me and the sound of the dog’s low growling vibrates up his chest and into my small body… I can’t manage hate.
The sound of a man’s strides makes me open my eyes. I force them to look back at the man walking toward me. His hands are fisted, his jaw clenched and a disapproving frown is on his face.
A low whistle pierces through the air, and the dog’s jaws loosen before he backs away.
I still don’t move. I lie there, my knees on the cement and the scratches from the dog bite burning and begging me to touch them. But I don’t. I just stay there listening to the man approaching. I close my eyes as he nears, hating everything that’s happening. Hating my failure, the circumstances. Hating everything but him.
He can drag me back inside; I won’t fight him. I never could before anyway.
My eyes are too dry to cry, but that doesn’t stop the guilt that smothers me when I peek up, his shadow blocking the light and I see the look of betrayal in his eyes.
Chapter 9
Jay
I knew she’d do it. I remind myself of that as I carry her back down the stairs.
She’s so light in my arms. Her small body is hot and she clings to me as if she didn’t just try to run from me. Her hot breath tickles my neck as she nestles her head there and stays still in my arms. She won’t look at me though.
And for some reason that makes me feel justified.
It shouldn’t though. I practically set her up for this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
I climb down the cement stairwell to the opened door and whistle for Toby to come in. He’s a German shepherd I picked up after his partner, a police officer, died on the job. He was shot in the back and the fuckers got Toby, too.
He barrels in, taking glances at Robin, my little bird. He’s curious but he’ll stay away. I trained him well, and he knows how to behave and what to do.
“Good boy,” I mutter under my breath as his paws patter in the basement and I kick the door shut. I think about locking it, but there’s no point.
Robin sniffles and readjusts in my arms, but she’s quiet. Her face is filthy, with a large smudge of dirt on her cheek, but she doesn’t even try to wipe it away.