Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69836 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
A shed behind the grotto contained a snowmobile. Its absence was unlikely to be discovered until morning. By that time, Cesar and I were hours away, on our third stolen vehicle.
I don’t know where my savior learned how to start cars using cables, but I don’t question it as long as he’s taking me away from the manhunt. I can imagine special ops soldiers are trained in things like that.
My anxiety levels after the killing were through the roof, but Cesar’s presence, his confidence and leadership lulls me into such relaxation after the flood of adrenaline that I doze off in the sturdy SUV. I’m used to sleeping in a car anyway, but this one’s got heated seats, a luxury I didn’t even dream of.
A rumble wakes me up. I’m covered with a blanket, cozy like a marshmallow between two crackers, only my feet turning into icicles. Maybe it’s good for my swollen ankle? But as I blink away sleep, a lightning bolt cuts through the dark gray sky swollen with clouds. Wet snow hits our windshield so fast the wipers can barely handle it.
It’s Cesar’s hands that make me worry though. He’s squeezing the wheel so hard his knuckles are white. If he’s nervous, I am too.
“Everything okay? What did I sleep through?” I ask and admire the tall trees. I hope we’re close to that cabin, because the route ahead might become impassable with such intense snowfall. The vehicle shakes over a series of potholes just as that thought passes through my mind. I blink away the haze of sleep to notice we’re going through a dense tunnel of trees that look straight out of a Tim Burton production, complete with bare witchy limbs. If we get stuck here, at least we’ll freeze to death before anyone can stumble upon us.
“The blizzard’s slowing us down, but we should be there very soon,” Cesar tells me in a strained voice, leaning forward, as if he expects a massive grizzly to storm straight at us from the veil of snow ahead.
“I couldn’t have gotten this far without you. Thank you.” I need him to know how grateful I am. He has his reasons to help me, but I’m feeling guilty I slept while he drove through the night. “Us Sullivan haters gotta stick together, right?” I joke to lighten the mood and hold my hand out for a high five.
Cesar glances my way, and my heart sinks when I see that the unnatural tension is still twisting his face as much as it does the muscles in his hands. He doesn’t high-five me, so I let my hand fall awkwardly. Is he regretful about helping me after all? But before I can think of a way to ask, he hits the brakes so rapidly I almost hit my head on the window.
When I look up, the headlights shine straight at a wooden porch far up a long driveway.
“We’re here,” Cesar mutters, offering me a tense smile. I hope the way he’s acting doesn’t mean he is a serial killer. One that takes out murderers like me.
“Oh good. Wow, and it’s not just some shack,” I smile back, unfastening my seatbelt. The storm outside rumbles again, and I have to fight the wind to open the car door. I’m so eager to be inside even if it’s probably as cold as a freezer.
The cabin is a wooden structure, with a sloped roof, but it’s hard to see much more when wet snow slaps me in the face, and a gust of wind is intent on tipping me over, into the slushy carpet covering the ground. I didn’t used to be such a weakling, but the lost weight and a year living out of a car has taken its toll on me.
I’m about to dip my foot in the dense snow when a dark silhouette looms on the edge of my vision. I can hardly breathe from the sudden fright, but then I smell a pleasant, herby scent and relax into Cesar’s arms.
“Hold me around the neck. We need to watch that ankle,” he shouts so I can hear him over the howling wind.
I’ve not been touched in so long I don’t know what to do with that request and helplessly raise my arms instead of following the order. “Oh? I… Oh, it’s fine. I’ll manage. The snow will be like a cold compress.” I laugh it off, but my heartbeat speeds up by the second.
Fuck.
I have to admit it.
I’ve got a little crush on him.
Who wouldn’t? He’s so fucking competent. Bought me dinner, saved me from arrest, and made sure I had a blanket. Let’s be honest—it doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as fuck either. I don’t have to see him naked to know he’s ripped under that jacket. And that face? He’s one of those guys who walks the fine line between being ridiculously handsome and not standing out too much, with a wide nose, shapely jaw and eyes like two pieces of coal. Even if one of them is fake.