Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Sick bitch!”
His hands find my throat and he squeezes so tight I’m sure he’s crushing my windpipe. I writhe and choke as I attempt to suck in air.
Nothing.
Just the quick blanket of darkness that steals me away.
This time for good.
Spencer
I hate this place.
I hate it. I hate it. I hate it.
Coming to the lodge every day has become the bane of my existence. I resent it with everything in me. It’s a fucking job I didn’t plan to take, but once I did, there was no getting out of it.
It can’t go on much longer.
Maybe a week?
Less?
Then what?
I can’t think past that.
My phone buzzes in my pocket as I exit the lodge and tip my head at my buddy, Davey, who works there. I pull out my phone and groan to see that it’s Dad. This has been a day from hell. I can’t deal with him right now. I decline the call.
A text pops up immediately after.
Dad: Aubrey was taken at gunpoint. We’re at Jude’s trying to figure out where the hell he took her.
I gape at my phone, confused by his text. Taken. Aubrey was taken. Fuck!
My feet take off before my brain catches up and I sprint toward my car. I climb in and peel out of the parking lot like my ass is on fire. The limits of my BMW are tested as I swerve around people, going as fast as possible down the mountainside.
Less than ten minutes later, I’m screeching to a halt in front of Jude’s house behind several other cars. I fly out of the car, barely remembering to slam the door shut. Not waiting for an invitation, I burst into the house, startling Grandpa, who sits in his wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs.
I take the steps two at a time until I’m in Jude’s now-crowded office. From the look and sound of it, everyone is here. Pushing past Gemma and Jamie, I force my way over to where Dad stands behind Jude’s desk. Jude is flying through screens of video surveillance recordings of our backyard.
“Who the fuck took her?” I demand, panting heavily from exertion.
Dad spears a hand through his hair and tugs. “We don’t know. The guy had a hoodie pulled over his head and was wearing sunglasses. The girls didn’t recognize him.”
I’m just now realizing Dad is wearing nothing but swim trunks. Willa, Gemma, and Jamie are all wearing coverups over swimsuits. Callum, at least, seems to be dressed like someone ready to chase after a kidnapper in jeans and a T-shirt.
“You all were having a pool party while Aubrey got kidnapped?” I snarl in disgust. “Why didn’t you stop him?” This question is aimed at my father.
“I tried,” Dad growls. “I was too late.”
“Spencer,” Pops says from the other side of the office. “Breathe. We’re going to find her.”
I can’t breathe.
Not when some psychopath has my girl and is doing fuck knows what to her.
“You recognize this vehicle?” Jude’s muffled voice rings out, pointing to the screen.
The camera angle only captures just a section of a white fender on a small sedan. Could be anyone.
“No,” I grumble. “Have you looked beyond today? Like this week?”
“I have a program that can search through recordings based on certain criteria,” Jude explains. “I’m searching for white vehicles across all the cameras on our road.”
Four hundred and seventeen possible matches.
Fucking great.
“This is a waste of time,” I snap. “We should be out there looking.”
“I’ll go with you and we can look,” Dempsey offers, revealing himself from a chair in the corner. “I can’t sit here idly either.”
“Call me if you find anything and we’ll investigate,” I rush out, turning on my heel.
Dad’s hand cups the back of my neck and he squeezes. “We’ll find her, Spence. I fucking swear it.”
His reassurance matters even though this whole situation feels hopeless. Dad always had the confidence that everything would work out. When he divorced Mom, he assured me everything would be fine and it was. When I accidentally ran over Callum’s mailbox at age fifteen, he told me it would be okay. Or that time me and the twins trampled over a wasp nest and we all got stung. He always promised things would be okay and they were. I have to believe him.
I give him a quick nod and then tear out of the office with Dempsey.
“Did ya find the girl?” Grandpa asks as we tromp down the stairs.
“Not yet, but we will,” I bite out.
Grandpa gives us a small wave. “No one wrongs our family and gets away with it.”
Once we’re in the car and barreling down the driveway, I glance over at Dempsey. He’s buzzing with energy, sitting up and scanning everything while I drive.
“Dad said he saw the car turn right.” He points east. “Head that way first.”
I peel out and gun it. This highway weaves in and out of thick areas of trees. There are a few turnoffs along the way. They could be anywhere. It’s going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Fucking impossible. Still beats sitting back at Jude’s twiddling my thumbs.