Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
We need to find Willow.
34
WILLOW
I can't see anything. I can't move anything. A piece of tape covers my mouth.
And Tanner's in the driver’s seat.
He stops suddenly and I roll straight off the backseat and into the footwell. My back lands painfully on the lump in the center. With the black hood over my eyes, I get no warning when we’re stopping or starting. There's a squeaky grinding noise. A garage door? A moment later, we pull forwards, rolling me into the back of the footwell, and then stop, rocking me forwards again. More squeaky grinding. Almost definitely a garage door.
And then the car door opens near my head with a heavy thunk. Hands grab me. I struggle, but I don't have a chance. A few moments later I'm propped up on a chair, shivering and helpless. My nostrils flare as I draw air to breathe, the tape sealing my mouth. I'm doing my best not to have a panic attack, but I'm not sure it’s working.
A moment later, the hood is yanked off. After so long behind it, the ceiling light hits almost as hard as the flash-bang grenade from the other night. I shut my eyes tight, then squint carefully while they adjust. As I'm able to take in more of what's around me, I realize we're in a garage of some kind. Or maybe a storage unit? At least that's what it looks like. Mom and Dad rented plenty to keep our things in while we were moving around or without a permanent address. This is one of the big ones, with enough room to fit Tanner's car in it. Metal shelves line both walls that I can see, transparent crates that are stuffed full, but I can't make out what any of it is. And next to the car, pulling some things out of the passenger seat, is Tanner.
I glare at him, unable to speak with the tape over my mouth.
He grins at me, eyes wild. “Sorry about this. Your grandmother was a decent lady, but you’re going to help me finish something I should've done years ago.”
I have no idea what he means, but I'm pretty sure it's not going to be good for me.
He grabs a crate full of small, rectangular pieces of… play dough? I can't figure out if he's crazy or not, but he's definitely dangerous, so I'm just going to have to keep my cool until I find some kind of opportunity to get away. With my hands tied behind my back and my ankles tied together, it's not like I have much choice.
Just have to not freak out.
Easy peasy.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask. Or that’s what I try to say, but it comes out, “Mmr mr mrm mrrmr mmr?”
He narrows his eyes at me. “If I take that off, are you going to scream?”
I shake my head.
Calloused fingers grab the edge of the tape, and with a sharp tug it's torn off my face. I yelp at the sudden pain, then draw a sharp hiss through my teeth. I stretch my mouth a little. “Why are you doing this?”
Maybe if I can keep him talking, he'll get distracted. Or at least buy myself time until my guys find me.
They have to have noticed I’m gone by now, right? I’ve been kicking myself for not calling Sinner back over. It was only a couple minutes. But a couple minutes was all it took.
Tanner stops, glaring until I think maybe I made a mistake opening my mouth. “The Outlaw Sons ruined my fucking life. If General hadn’t been such a fucking hardass, everything would’ve been fine. And that fucker Hellfire is just as bad! I had a good thing going and then they had to stick their fucking noses in it! Forget my job, Chafik is gonna blow my fucking head off if he gets his hands on me now. So you know what that means, don’t you?”
He waits until I shake my head nervously.
“It means I've got nothing to fucking lose.” He digs those gray clay squares out of the crate and starts lining them up on a folding table next to me.
What would I do if this was a mystery book? I told Grace that I didn’t want to write mysteries and that’s true, but it doesn’t mean I never read them. I need to leave a sign that I was here in case they are on my trail.
Easier said than done.
The only thing I have that I can get to with my hands tied is my ring. Would they recognize it? But Tanner might hear it hit the floor. I try to get him talking again.
“What did the club do to you?” I try to make it sound sympathetic. Like I actually care. I'm a better writer than actor, but if I don't try anything, then I'm just giving up.