Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
When I don’t answer, he yanks on my cuffs, pulling me away from the wall. “You understand?”
I nod because I’m too afraid to speak. This man’s threat is as real as the sky is fucking blue.
“Let’s go,” he barks, tugging me toward the door.
My knees give out, and I feel myself sagging. The man isn’t having it. He roughly hauls me to my feet before I hit the floor.
“Walk,” he demands, shoving me forward.
He has me. He has me, and I have no choice but to comply. There’s no way I will allow innocent people to be hurt when this man is obviously only here for me. The door opens, and the hand over my mouth disappears. I swallow a huge gulp of air, forcing much needed oxygen back into my lungs.
Principal Gregory’s standing outside the door. Her eyes go to my tear-stained cheeks first and then the handcuffs now binding my wrists together behind my back. “Is there anyone you’d like me to call for you, Miss Jackson?” she asks. “Your father, perhaps?”
The man tightens his grip around my bicep in warning.
“That won’t be necessary,” he answers for me. “Her father is already waiting for us at the station.”
Principal Gregory nods her understanding, easily believing the lie. She shoots me a sympathetic look as she leads us through the hallway. Students part like the Red Sea to give us room to pass. I don’t know what she thinks I’ve done to deserve being arrested, but it’s the least of my worries.
I keep my eyes on the floor. Whispers and quiet laughter follow closely behind. We exit through the glass front doors, and Principal Gregory follows us to the police cruiser waiting at the curb.
“Have your father call me,” Principal Gregory says with so much sadness in her voice I feel like I should be the one comforting her.
The fake police officer shoves me into the backseat of the police cruiser and slams the door. Again, I remain silent.
“Hey! Where are you taking her? What happened? What the fuck’s going on?” someone calls out.
I freeze as I recognize Duke’s voice.
No. No. No. I chant in my head.
I glance out the corner of my eye through a part in my hair. Principal Gregory has her hand flat on Duke’s chest, preventing him from coming any closer. She shakes her head and guides him back up the stairs into the school.
“Sarah!” he calls over his shoulder. “Sarah!”
I say nothing as the car pulls away from the school. Away from my life.
It isn’t a real life, but it’s all I have.
HAD.
It’s not just my life that’s over.
I may have spared the lives of the people in that school with my silence, but if I can’t complete my work, others will die.
The only question now is, how many?
Chapter Seven
I pretend to be crying, bawling loudly complete with sniffles and moans so that the brute in the front seat can’t hear what I’m really doing, which is picking the lock on the handcuffs with the small nail file I keep taped to the inside cuff of my sweater.
I knew my end was near, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t been preparing for it.
My kidnapper doesn’t seem annoyed by my tears. He doesn’t react at all. After sending a text message, his eyes are on the road without sparing so much as a glance at me in the rearview mirror.
When I’ve got the lock picked, I let out an exceptionally loud wail to disguise the click of the cuffs as they open, and my wrists are finally free, but I keep them behind my back.
The cop car I’m riding in has the cage thing that separates the backseat from the front. There is no handle because like most cop cars, the doors only open from the outside. Fortunately, it’s a newer model cruiser, and I spot the red emergency release lever by my foot poking out from under the floor mat. I slip off my shoe, maneuver my foot, and lift the edge of the mat. It takes some work, especially because I can’t move any other part of my body while doing it, but I finally manage to slip my big toe through the fabric of the handle.
Most logical people would choose to make a run for it while the car is stopped at a stop sign or a light. But this man is massive. His legs are long and strong, and I have no doubt that if I escape while we are stopped that he’ll catch me before I have a chance to get further than a few feet.
On the other hand, while the car is in motion, is a whole other ballgame. I can push open the door and leap. If I don’t crack my skull on the pavement or break a limb in the process, I can make a run for it while he’s still slowing to a stop.