Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
She claps mine and I want to pull away at the feel of her clammy skin against mine.
“Megan Dobbs,” she says, her voice tight and a little shaky.
Maybe she’s new? I don’t see well-established realtors taking on a property like this, so that makes sense.
“Shall we?” she asks, sweeping her hand toward the front door.
I’ve never been in a position to buy a house before, but the woman doesn’t mention a thing about the house. She doesn’t try to point out the positives or mention the reduced price since it’s been on the market for so long.
As soon as I step into the house, I know why.
A man I don’t recognize is standing on the far side of the small living room, a handgun pointed in our direction.
“I’m so sorry,” the realtor sobs. “They threatened me.”
Megan screams when another man comes from out of nowhere, slamming the front door closed right before he grabs her.
I’m stuck, frozen in place as I watch the man zip tie her hands behind her back before stuffing a dirty rag in her mouth and tying a strip of cloth around her head to hold it in place. I watch, stunned, as her tears trail down her face, disappearing into the fabric. That man then disappears into one of the rooms down the hall with Megan.
The only thing I can think of is escaping, and I turn to run out the front door. I know what will happen if I stay. These men will rape us and then murder us. The man with the gun becomes inconsequential because staying is sure death. If I can skip the assault and get right to death, then that’s my play.
“Kendall,” the man growls. “Run and you’ll never see your kids again.”
His voice doesn’t sound like a threat to my person, but one involving my kids, and it stops me cold, shivers working their way up my spine before radiating down my arms and legs despite the heat in the house.
“Give me your phone,” he snaps, evil rolling off of him in waves when I turn back around to face him.
“Now,” the other man snaps as he rejoins us in the living room.
With shaky hands and terror filling my bones, I pull my cell from my back pocket and hand it over. The man who tied Megan up steps up to take it, but he doesn’t touch me or begin to tie me up.
“She’s terrified,” the man says, and I try to place his face, but I don’t think I’ve seen him before. His face is covered in pock marks as if he struggled with severe acne as a teen.
“She should be,” the man with the gun says. “Now go.”
I turn to leave, thinking the man is talking to me, and as overcome with guilt as I am to leave Megan here, I have three kids to think about. I’d like to think I could be a hero and save the day in this situation, but I just can’t. I wouldn’t fault Megan for leaving me behind either. The problem is it’s not even a tough choice.
“Not you, stupid bitch,” the man across the room snaps.
The other man smiles at me, cupping my jaw with dirty fingers. “See you soon, sweetheart.”
And then he’s gone, the dragon tattoo on his neck flashing ominously as he walks out of the house.
“Just you and me, doll. You gonna give me trouble?”
“What do you w-want?” I stammer.
“We’ll get to that. Why don’t you have a seat?” He points to a nasty couch that wasn’t in the online pictures. I never would’ve showed up if it had been.
I move across the room as he demands, sitting on the couch, but I keep my eyes on him the entire time. I have no way to combat a gun, but I also don’t want to be taken by surprise if he lunges at me either.
“How much money do you have?”
I blink up at him, hating the way he has inched closer until he’s towering over me. I want to mention that excessive intimidation because just having the gun right now and the threat to my kids is enough to keep me compliant, but he doesn’t seem the type to heed the reminder.
“Nothing on me, but a hundred or so in my purse.” The cash I have on me is my emergency money in case I break down or end up somewhere I can’t use a debit card.
He chuckles, a grating noise that echoes off the walls of the mostly empty house. “So not three hundred grand?”
I stare at him, wondering if he’s high.
“Of course not,” I snap. “Do you really think I’d be looking at buying this shithole of a house if I had over a quarter of a million dollars?”
A smile slides across his face, and it’s misplaced in this moment, but what the hell do I know about crazy?