Page 146 of Finding Noah

“Twenty-four hours?”

“No sooner, no later.”

“Okay.” She blew out a breath, staring into the spaces where his eyes should be. “Twenty-four hours.”

He nodded, then picked up his flashlight from the wall and turned to retreat into the night.

“Wait,” she said, stopping him.

He emitted an impatient sigh and turned to face her, clearly exasperated in his stance. “Yes?”

“They'll ask me where I got this,” she said, holding up the paper. “What do I say?”

“Tell them whatever you want. You found it in the mailbox, on your windshield, nailed to the fucking door. Whatever you need to say, as long as you don't tell them you've seen me. Nobody is to know you've seen me.”

She nodded, tucking the paper into the pocket of her sweatshirt. “Okay. I never saw you, and it was left on the steps.”

“Good girl,” he praised before offering a curt nod, then turned, briskly stepping between the headstones and disappearing into the night.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

FREEDOM

Rapid footsteps approached the door. Ben had never moved that fast before, never with such urgency. Terror and uncertainty rattled my heart, my throat working over and over with every swallow.

Today, I was going to die, and as badly as I needed this perpetual torment to end, I was scared.

Scared of the pain, scared of being greeted with an eternal nothingness, scared of leaving this world without saying goodbye to the people I'd survived this long for, to have the chance of seeing them again.

Scared of never seeing my child come into the world.

Scared of forcing Meg to raise him or her alone.

But I couldn't have picked a better woman for the job, I thought as the door flew open to Benjamin, wearing a face more angry and wicked than usual.

He was in a perfect mood to execute this plan, the only one I had to get out of here … even if it meant giving my last breath to make it happen.

He'd dump my body somewhere. He'd allow Meg to find me. She and my parents would have closure. In time, they could let go, heal, move on, and I hoped they would. God, I hoped they would. I hoped they'd live the lives they all deserved to live without my ass lingering around, backsliding into trauma time and time again.

Ben slammed the door behind him as I thought, I'd never get over the shit this guy put me through anyway. All the therapy in the world wouldn't be enough.

No, this is for the best.

For me. For everyone.

I plastered a grin to my face as I greeted him, “Hey there, Benny. Bad day?”

His eyes met mine, and on adrenaline alone, I pushed myself to continue smiling. And in one, two, three steps, he crossed the room while pulling a handgun from the waistband of his jeans.

That was easy, I thought as I widened my eyes before squeezing them shut, bracing myself for the inevitable impact.

Cold steel crashed against my face as he pistol-whipped me. The darkness behind my eyelids sparkled with stars at the onset of pulsating pain, and the taste of copper burst against my tongue.

Something, a foreign object, clattered against my teeth, and a moment passed before I realized he'd knocked one of them out. A molar.

I spit it out onto the bed with a string of blood and saliva.

“You could've said hi first,” I croaked, my lungs working overtime.