Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
He knew exactly where I was the entire time, that I was sure.
“All right,” Bright called. “I’m back.”
He was.
“And sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I need to skedaddle.” He walked right through the entire Fun House, stopping, I thought, directly in front of me. Or if he wasn’t in front of me, he was close enough that I could hear the air waft by me. “Now, let’s get this finished, shall we?”
I picked up the shard of glass I’d been holding, gripped it tightly, and then slammed it into what I thought was his lower calf.
He howled.
That howl turned into a “stupid fucking bitch!”
He reared back and was about to kick the hell out of me, forgetting entirely about the axe in his hand when he was hit so hard in the side by a charging male body that it took him sideways into the next mirror.
I watched in satisfaction as Bright’s head bounced right off the mirror, leaving a spray of blood in the broken debris behind.
“Fuckin’ A, man,” Keene replied hoarsely. “You took him out so fast and hard that I never saw it coming. Can I have your autograph?”
Autograph?
What?
“What are you talking about right now, Quinoa?” I asked Keene.
“This is Titus.” Keene pointed at the man who was now standing as if he hadn’t just hit some man so hard that he’d passed out after hitting his head on the wall.
“Hello, Titus.” I smiled. “Thank you for saving me.”
“Your man tried,” Titus offered his hand to me, but I didn’t take it. I waved my bloody hands at him, and he understood immediately. “But his crew held him outside so that he didn’t kill this motherfucker. We need him alive.”
“Why do you need him alive?” I asked curiously.
Because I most certainly wouldn’t mind him dead.
“The tall chick outside heard some of what he was saying,” Titus explained.
“Melinda knew enough that she heard about your mom and Mary. This sheriff needs to pay. Tell everyone what he knows so we can find justice for all of those victims and their families,” Keene added. “If we’d allowed Coffey in here in the mood he was in, this man would no longer have a head.”
That made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
I frantically got to my feet after that, my heart racing. “We need to get outside.”
Keene, seeming to understand my urgency due to my lack of wanting anything to do with the stupid Fun House, though likely misunderstanding because it had nothing to do with it, he led me outside.
“How did y’all figure out how the hell to get in here so fast?” I asked.
Keene was silent for a few seconds too long before I said, “Keene?”
He sighed.
It was Titus who answered, though.
“Your brother memorized how to get in and out of it without having to pay attention to anything but the turns to take. Left. Left. Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right, right, right. Left.” Titus explained it to me. “He said that when he found out about your mother, he wanted to make sure you knew how to get out. But you never wanted to be anywhere close to it ever again. So he respected your wishes and didn’t say anything about it to you.”
I felt my heart get all melty.
“Left,” Titus said. “Your brother is going to stay with the crazy man, right?”
“Right,” Keene promised, giving the “crazy man” an extra kick with his steel-toed boot.
I snorted. “I have a lot to tell you, Quinoa.”
Keene winked. “Hopefully, when the law enforcement gets here, I can listen without wanting to kill this bastard.”
Doubt it, I thought.
My hands and face were burning by the time Titus led me out, and I knew by only the look on the closest man’s face, who just so happened to be Trig, that I likely looked like a damn slasher victim.
“It’s a lot better than it looks,” I promised. “Where is he?”
Hearing my voice, the crowd of men who looked like they were straining beside me suddenly parted, and there he was.
He was standing in the middle of that group, looking like he’d just gone a round with the devil himself.
His hair was a mess, his eyes were wild, and the moment his straining body was let go, he stumbled to his knees due to the force he was trying to use to get away.
He hit the ground, then was up on his feet in half a breath.
His wild eyes looked around, confused at his sudden freedom, then he spotted me and froze.
A sound left his throat that sounded like a wounded animal, then he was moving toward me.
“It’s only a few surface cuts,” I promised as he moved to cup my face. “He was swinging an axe, and the glass shards kept spraying me in the face. I’m fine.”