Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Tell me!” Gunman demanded.
“No!”
Shaking his head, Gunman straightened. Reaching behind him, he pulled out his gun again and pointed it at Blond Guy.
“Last chance.”
“Go to hell.”
Gunman smirked. “You first.”
Two gunshots rang out, hitting Blond Guy in the chest. He jerked once, his body spasming and arching, and then he sagged to the right, the weight of him toppling the chair. Silence filled the room, none of the men moving. I covered my mouth with both hands, trying to stop the screams that were threatening. I was freezing cold, long shivers running through my body at the shock of what I had just witnessed. Silent tears trailed down my cheeks as I bit my knuckles, trying not to make any sounds.
Gunman shoved his gun behind him again and palmed his cell phone. He spoke two words, “It’s done,” then pushed his phone back into his pocket.
“You want him moved, boss?” The slightly older man spoke.
Gunman hunched down, staring at the dead man. “Yeah. I want him put someplace visible. Send a message.” Standing up, he nudged his foot against the leg of the body. “You don’t fucking mess with Orson—or me.”
The other man spoke up, his voice thick and gravelly. “I’ll get the car.”
“Yeah.”
I buried my face into my knees, desperately wishing I had never found that hole in the fence. I needed them to leave. Then I could run. Run far away and scream. Footsteps faded away, and I could hear the two remaining men speaking in low tones.
Gunman cleared his throat. “Come out.”
My body locked down. Who was he talking to?
“I said, come out of there. Now.”
I didn’t move. I couldn’t move. Blistering fear kept me immobile.
Footsteps approached, and before I could blink, a large hand wrapped around my bicep, and I was pulled out of my little dark corner and tossed into the center of the room.
Cold metal pressed hard against my forehead. “And what have we here?”
Shaking, I opened my eyes and met the gaze of the man about to kill me. Angry, vivid, bright green met scared, wide brown. His eyebrows lifted in shock at my appearance. “Who the fuck are you?”
For some reason, that angered me.
I wiped my wet cheeks. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to swear at strangers?” I huffed. “Don’t you have any manners?”
He blinked at me, the barrel of the gun pressing harder.
“Who. Are. You.”
“Skylar. My name is Skylar.”
“What are you doing here, Skylar?”
“I was cold. There was a hole in the fence. It seemed a good place to try to get some sleep.” An unexpected hysterical snort erupted from my throat. “Guess not.”
“Bad decision,” he agreed softly.
“No shit,” I replied, leaning back a little, trying to escape the gun. “Do you mind? That thing is cold, and it hurts when you press it into my head so hard.”
He frowned as he stared at me, glancing up at the other man, then back at me. But he didn’t press the gun again. “What are you doing in my warehouse?”
“Oh, sorry.” I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t know it was your warehouse. I was only looking for a place to sleep out of the cold.”
He continued to stare, and I shrugged self-consciously. “The shelters were full,” I added, wiping my nose on my sleeve.
“Nice.” He indicated my arm.
“Sorry, I don’t carry handkerchiefs, jerk-off. Got a spare?”
“Ah, no.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“You’re trespassing.”
I snickered, using my other sleeve. “Why don’t you call the cops, then? Turn me in?”
A ghost of a smile curled his lips. “You’ve got a smart mouth on you. That can get you into all sorts of trouble.”
“Old news, mister.”
His partner, or whatever he was, barked a laugh and said something in the foreign language. Gunman bared his teeth in a smile that only increased my fear. He wiped his chin as he stared at me, the light glinting off the gun. It made me nervous.
“Watch where you aim that thing.”
Suddenly, the gun was pressed to my head again. “Show some respect, little girl.”
I couldn’t help the snort. “You want me to respect you? You just shot some guy, and now you’re going to kill me. You want me to respect you for that?” I giggled—the sound hysterical even to my own ears. “Good luck with that, fucker.”
He growled and cursed at me. “I don’t kill women or children. I’m not sure which category you fall into, but right now, I’m thinking of making an exception.”
I shivered and buried my head back into my knees, deciding I really didn’t want to be looking when he pulled the trigger. “Just fucking do it then and get it over with,” I mumbled.
His voice was close. “Are you that anxious to die, Kitten?”
My head snapped up, and I was shocked to find him hunched in front of me, his face inches from mine. “It’s not much of a life anyway,” I whispered, feeling the tears overflow again. “Just make it fast so I don’t feel it too long, please?”