Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Mom…I need you now.
My vision blurs. Tears stream out of the corners of my eyes.
Finally, It’s starting. I’m afraid to say or do anything for fear it will shut off again like it always does.
A sob comes out of my throat.
I squeeze my eyes closed, leaning into the sense of release, of relief, that’s coming at letting this out.
Please don’t stop. Please keep flowing.
I hardly notice the harsh ripping of tape from my torso.
I’m crying. Another sob fills my lower jaw.
Abe lifts me out of the chair and yanks me against his body. My face presses against his cotton T-shirt. My bound hands are trapped between our bodies.
I’m terrified of this closeness, this interaction will turn the tears off.
Abe Oakley is the last person I feel safe releasing emotion with. Except, that seems to be a lie because with my face hidden in his shirt, it becomes easy to let it go. Soon, my back shakes with sobs, and I soak the front of his shirt with my tears.
Abe doesn’t say a word. He doesn’t pat my back or make soothing sounds, but he holds me tight, and there’s a fierceness in the quality of the embrace that matches the intensity of the trapped emotion inside me. It somehow gives me permission to let it all out.
I don’t know how long I stand there and cry. It feels like forever and no time at all. All I know is that when I’m done, when the sobs have stopped, and the tears are dry, the emptiness feels like peace.
“I haven’t cried.” I lift my face from Abe’s mascara-smeared shirt and blink up at him.
He uses his thumbs to clean the smudges under my eyes and wipes them off on the tail of his shirt.
“I haven’t cried since before she died. Not once. I couldn’t get it out. I haven’t felt– anything. That’s why I was leaning over the edge of a cliff. Not because I wanted to die but because I wondered if I was even capable of feeling fear.”
“Were you?”
I shake my head. “No, but then this wolf ran at me and… I don’t know, I felt a little something.”
Abe gives me an inscrutable look. “I’m sorry, Lauren. Your sucky day is going to keep getting worse. But I swear to fate you’ll wake up tomorrow, and you won’t remember any of it. And I’ll make sure–motherfucking sure–that you feel good.”
My forehead wrinkles as I try to decode what he’s saying. “How?”
Abe doesn’t answer, and some of my peace slips away, replaced by a dull sense of dread. There’s something wrong here. I’m not afraid of Abe–despite the fact that he’s tied me to a chair and is holding me captive. But his plan–whatever it is–feels wrong. Very wrong.
“With drugs?” I ask. “Are you going to drug me?”
His lips close in a firm line. Instead of answering, he scoops under my knees and lifts me up into a honeymoon carry. He drops my phone into the lap of my belly then the stack of cash.
“Sure, I’ll hold that for you,“ I joke dryly.
The corners of Abe’s lips turn up briefly as he strides out of the cabin on long legs. His physical prowess is truly mind blowing. He must be three times as strong as an ordinary human. My weight seems to be nothing to him.
And as crazy as all this is–I’m grateful for the distraction. Abe being a wolf and kidnapping me is a powerful interruption to the numbness I’ve been feeling. It’s better than the emptiness that has engulfed me lately.
He carries me out to his vehicle and manages to balance me with one arm as he opens the passenger door. He carefully sits me on the front seat and fastens my seat belt.
“I’ve seen you before,” I realize. Even before the night of the full moon when he was outside my window, I was seeing glimpses of movement from the woods like I did today before he charged on me.
Abe shuts the passenger door without answering, but I know I’m right.
We drive down the hill toward Scottsdale in silence for twenty minutes, and then I start hysterically laughing.
“What?” he demands.
I can’t stop laughing–it’s that sort of giddy, uncontrollable, slap-happy state. Not funny, but still hysterical. First the tears and now the laughter. Abe seems to ignite all my lost emotions.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just realized.” I’m still cracking up. “My chemistry partner is a werewolf.”
“Shifter–not werewolf.”
I use my shoulder to try to wipe the tears of laughter from my face. “What’s the difference?”
“Werewolves don’t exist. Just in movies. But I don’t get it. What’s funny?”
“It’s like Twilight.”
Abe sends me a blank look.
“The book? The movie? You know–the new girl’s lab partner ends up being a vampire who’s attracted to her. My lab partner ended up being a wolf.” I blink at him as a new thought occurs to me. “Are you attracted to me? Is that why you’ve been prowling around my house?”