Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
“You can’t be that naïve. You know what I want. I want to make you bleed.” His words make everything inside me start to shake. Bile rises up my throat. “Can’t wait to feel that virgin blood all over my c—”
“Leave me alone!” I say again. This time, my voice cracks as I scream.
“How about this? If you don’t fight, I’ll take it easy on you. I’ll even try not to hurt you. That bad.”
His grip tightens, and I fear I’ll pass out.
As he holds me steady with his one hand, the other hand fishes in his pocket. He pulls something out. I don’t look at him, though. Instead, I search for an exit route. The best way is to cut through the trees and back to the trailer so he won’t catch me. I hear a loud sniffling sound and then his hand holding me tightens to the point of pain.
Fear surges through my veins as I struggle to break free from his grasp. It’s now or never, as his grip becomes excruciating. I use all of my body weight to pull away. It feels like my encased arm will fall off as his fingers become more rigid, but I pull with all my might, my arm coming dislodged from his death grip, but the momentum I’ve built up has me falling headfirst toward the ground.
The moment I hit the ground, pain ricochets through my body. My head throbs, and I feel a sharp pain in my wrist.
It’s hard to open my eyes, but when I do, they widen in terror. A sharp stick is stabbed into my arm, blood oozing around the wood.
Time seems to slow down as I try to move, and the wood pulls away from my skin. Blood
gushes from the wound. The pain is unbearable.
A cry escapes my lips. I grab at my shirt with my good hand and pull it over my head, trying to break free so I can stop the bleeding.
In the midst of my pain, something dawns on me. Where’s Ace? I need to run. He’ll come for me.
My gaze pulls away from the blood, and I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart.
He’s nowhere.
I can’t see him.
I’m safe.
I take a deep breath and stand, willing myself to head toward help. Someone to take care of this wound.
When I’m fully standing and steady on my feet, I turn my body just slightly, and my breathing hitches.
Oh my God.
Ace is lying face down in the water.
Not moving.
“Ace,” I yell. “Get up.”
My heart beats rapidly in my chest as I watch him, waiting for him to get up. To move.
But he doesn’t.
He never gets up.
As if the sky above can understand my pain, it opens up. Water pouring down from above. It runs over my body, washing away the remnants of blood that cling to the exposed skin of my arm not tied off by my shirt.
“I killed him, and then I ran home. Allowing the rain to wash away the evidence. It was as if I was never there. But it was still my fault,” I sob.
He shakes his head, moving toward me like I’m a caged animal.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
With my head in my hands, I continue to cry. “You don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”
“You’re not listening to me. It is not your fault.”
I look up, finally peering at Aiden. “And you know this how?” I stand straight, not liking the way Aiden’s staring at me like I might break. “Sorry, Aiden, you weren’t there. I know what happened.”
“Then you know that it was ruled a drug overdose.”
“What?” I shake my head, eyes narrowing to mere slits. “No. He drowned.”
Aiden’s head shakes back and forth slowly. “He didn’t drown.”
“I was there. I saw it.”
“Did you see him drowning? Or did you see him dead in the water?” he asks, and I raise a hand, palm up.
“What’s the difference?”
“There’s a big difference, Cass.” He takes a large step toward me.
“I saw him in the water. I was bleeding. By the time I looked up, it was too late. But I pushed him.”
“And you think you could have pushed a one-hundred-and-fifty-pound teen and kill him?”
“He drowned. Because of me.”
He laughs, but he’s not laughing at me. He’s frustrated that I’m not on the same page as him. “How do you know that?”
My forehead furrows. “It’s all anyone would talk about that day. After the police came for the body.”
“But what about weeks later, Cass? When the autopsy came back?”
His question catches me off guard. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t imagine that you do.” Aiden reaches for something in his back pocket and hands it to me.
“What is this?” I say as I open it.
“That’s the forensic report, Cass. Ace didn’t drown.”
“What? Of course he did.” My eyes scan the document, taking in each word.