Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
She didn’t have any proper blinds, and I didn’t fucking like the fact any asshole could see right through. I rested my head back on the seat and closed my eyes for a moment, running my hand over my jaw, knowing I was using a hell of a lot of self-control not to go to her right now.
I opened my eyes and looked at the apartment complex once more, sat up straighter as I saw a man open the front door and walk inside. It could have been a resident, but the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. My gut told me this wasn’t right, so without thinking, I got out of the car and headed to where Poppy was.
I had to make sure she was okay.
Chapter Nine
Poppy
I leaned back against the front door, my eyes closed, and reached out without looking to put the deadbolt in place. I rested my head back on the dented, paint-chipped metal, and just breathed.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
I didn’t notice Butcher following me after I told him not to, and I didn’t know what was wrong with me, why a part of me felt like it—I—should be okay with him doing it. It’s like I should be okay with him breaking the law and going around doing predator shit.
But the truth was, when I looked at him, when I felt his gaze on me, remembered how he beat that guy, saved my life, all I could think about was if he wanted to hurt me, he could’ve. If he wanted to do something shady and dangerous, he could’ve by now.
But could I really believe that he was following me to keep me safe? His actions in the alley spoke truth to that, but it didn’t mean I should trust him, right?
I pushed away from the door and tossed my bag on the small armchair to my left. It was stained and old, here when I rented the place. In fact, all the furniture in the apartment had already been here when I moved in. So not only was I paying cheap-ass rent under the table, but the apartment had been furnished.
Even though the furniture and appliances were old as dirt, barely even worked, and had a strange odor to them, it was better than what I had at the trailer.
It was better than a lot of shit I had in this life.
I went into the bathroom and ran the water, letting my hand move underneath the spray, feeling it turn from cold to warm to hot. After plugging up the tub and pouring in some cheap shampoo that was tripling as body wash as well as bubble bath, I removed my shirt and tossed it into the corner of the bathroom.
I looked at myself in the mirror, my bra white and plain, nothing fancy. I had my fingers at the button of my jeans, popped it open, and was about to pull the zipper down, when I heard the sound of a floorboard creaking. The noise of the water filling up the tub drowned out a lot, but not that.
Was it just my nerves—paranoia? Maybe I was on edge because of everything, and so hearing things was normal. But my heart was racing, this sixth sense telling me something wasn’t right.
And dammit, my bag was on the chair in the living room, my gun inside.
I walked backward toward the tub, reaching out to grab the handle and turn the water off. And then I stood there for a moment just listening. The lights were off aside from the one in the bathroom, and I couldn’t see or feel anything. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe it was the neighbor. I felt my shoulders sag and turned around, even though I felt like maybe I wasn’t alone.
It’s in my head. I’m paranoid.
I turned back toward the bathtub, about to turn the water on once more, when I felt a breeze move over the back of my neck. I was just about to turn around when someone grabbed my nape, painfully digging their fingers into my flesh.
My upper body was pushed forward, but I grabbed the edge of the tub, trying to stop them, staring wide-eyed at the half-filled porcelain, the steam from the water moving up toward my face. I cried out, yelled, shouted, but it wasn’t like anyone would help me even if they heard me. People in these parts kept to themselves, even if they heard a gun go off in the next apartment over.
And then my head was submerged in the water, my hands slipping off the sides. The edge of the tub dug into my ribs, right under my breasts. I flailed around, water splashing everywhere, my hair sticking to the side of my face, making the choking, suffocating feeling intensify.