Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 141556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 566(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
I know he’s right. My only hope is that God will spare me. So I pray.
“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge.” I say it twice, waiting for something to happen, anything, and then it does.
Angrily, Calder clamps a hand over my mouth, and my lids snap open. The coppery stench of blood from his hand seeps into my nose.
I gasp, struggling against him, but there’s no moving him.
“Stop! Save your prayers for when they matter. God can’t save you from me, Saintlyn. Not now, not ever.”
I want to tell him he’s wrong. That God can save anyone he wants, but I’m too consumed with dread to do anything but stare into his eyes. Cold tears slide down my cheeks as the reality of the situation sinks in.
I can’t die. Not yet. I’m too young. There are so many things I want to do with my life. And what about my father? Who will care for him? He barely survived losing Mom.
If he loses me, it’ll kill him. That thought only makes me cry harder. The sobs racking my body make it difficult to stay upright. Calder’s grasp on me tightens, and he’s the only thing keeping me on my feet.
I blink up at him, silently praying for a different outcome. The way his jaw clenches in irritation reminds me of the night in his truck. How conflicted he was, caught between two feelings, unsure of which one might win out. His gaze connects with mine, a flash of regret appearing and then evaporating like smoke when he looks back toward the front door.
Maybe he’ll let me go. He got what he came for after all.
Another voice rips all my illusions to shreds. “Hurry up, Calder. We’ve gotta move quickly. If you ain’t got the balls to end her, then I will.” I can’t see the person’s face, and I don’t recognize the voice, but he sounds hardened. He sounds like a killer. Like Calder.
“Shut your fucking mouth. I’ve got it.” Calder’s voice is steel as he fires his response, his sharp jaw ticking as he clenches his teeth.
Do something. Anything.
This is my last chance to escape, my last chance to resist. With that thought fresh in my mind, I gather what little strength I have and fight back. I don’t think about the consequences or what’s going to happen next. All that matters is surviving.
I sink my teeth into the meaty flesh of the palm still pressed against my mouth.
I’d hoped the pain would make him release me, even for a second, but it didn’t. He hisses and tugs his hand away, pulling his skin from between my teeth, leaving the iron taste of blood behind. It takes every part of me not to gag.
It didn’t work, and worse, now he looks, what? Amused? As amused as someone can look, splattered in someone’s lifeblood. “Was that supposed to hurt? If so, you’ll have to do better. Kittens bite harder than you.”
Anger and fear clash inside me, and I wrench against him, trying to break his hold on me again. “Please don’t.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
“But you will! I know you’re going to hurt me.”
“Do you?”
It’s obvious he won’t release me, so I ignore him and continue to struggle, but Calder easily presses his weight and muscle mass against me, stilling me completely.
His neck is now situated against the side of my face, smearing the tears tracking down my cheeks. “For what it’s worth, I admire your fight.”
I scramble to find a way loose. “My father will notice. He will look for me, and he won’t stop until he finds me. Don’t do this.”
“Sure, he may look for you, but he’ll never find you. And eventually, he will accept that you’re gone, as will everyone else.”
This is it. I’m going to die. He’s going to kill me.
A fresh shot of adrenaline surges in my veins, making me dizzy, but there’s nowhere for me to go, no way to escape.
“Please… please, Calder.” I rasp, willing him to see me, to hear me. “Don’t kill me.” I start to sob again, and through my blurry gaze, I watch him, waiting for him to do it.
To end me.
He doesn’t move, though. His mouth opens, then closes against my temple, and I swear he wants to say something. The fantasy of freedom pops when he transfers my wrists together in one hand and snakes his arm around the back of my neck to clutch me tighter to him.
Terrified, I whimper as air gets harder to drag into my lungs.
Using his body weight, he presses me harder against the wall, making it impossible to breathe, to exist. Is this it? Is he going to crush me to death? I get my answer when he shifts his forearms up, the movement making spots flash behind my eyes.