When I'm With You (Little Hollow Series, #2)

He lets out a low growl and tries to get up.

“Don’t you fucking dare move!” I shout, pointing the blade toward him with a shaky hand. The thought of stabbing someone knocks me sick, but I’m ready to do whatever it takes to escape, to stop this torture.

“Where’s my mom buried?” I ask ,trying to keep the hysteria out of my voice.

“Somewhere you’ll never find her,” he laughs out.

I kick him in the face, enjoying the satisfying crunch his jaw makes under my heel. “I said, where is she buried?”

He spits on the floor and looks up at me, laughing. “Fuck you.”

My hand holding the knife shakes more as my arm aches from holding it out. I’m weak and he knows it, but adrenaline does strange things to you.

He stands up and I back away toward the door. “I said don’t fucking move!”

He ignores my warning and shuffles forward with a sneer on his face, blood oozing out of his nose and down his chin, he thinks I’m not strong enough.

“You won’t do this, Keeley. I’m the only one who knows the real you. The dirty, broken girl that nobody wants. You see, I’ve been watching you for a while now. You’re different, you’re not like them. You belong with me.”

“No!” I shout over his taunts. “You haven’t broken me, I will not give you that satisfaction. I may never be able to get your stench off me, but I sure as hell will rid this world of you.”

Launching myself at him, knife raised in my hand, I only have one goal.



I shake Jacques by his shoulders. “You’ve got to remember something!”

He rakes his hands through his hair and I walk away from him, kicking at the dirt.

Why Harlow? We pass through Harlow on rides out this way all the time, but there’s a niggling feeling in the back of my head that tells me this isn’t why I know Harlow. But for the life of me, I can’t damn well remember!

“I’m trying, Hunter. He kept me pretty much in the dark about it until just before I… before I took her.”

He looks at the floor ashamed of himself. Good, he damn well should be! I want to beat his ass but I need him right now.

“Try. Harder,” I say out of gritted teeth.

He links his hands behind the back of his neck and looks around at the old train tracks. “Why is Harlow ‘safe’?”

“What you talkin’ about?” I grit out, feeling agitated and restless.

He shrugs. “Taz said Harlow was safe, that’s why the meeting place was here, but I have-”

I have no idea what he- safe…

“Jacques, get on my bike now!” I shout out, running for it.

He runs after me. “What’s wrong?”

My bike roars to life and I shout, “I know where he’s keeping her!” over my shoulder and prepare myself for what we might be riding into.



There’s moments in life when you don’t need to take more than a split second to decide on something, whether it turns out to be the right or wrong decision, in that moment it feels right.

This is one of those moments.

And while I look into his evil eyes as the life drains out of them, I know I’ve made the right choice.

I choose me.

His grip around my neck loosens as he slides down onto the floor, pulling me with him. I let go of the knife in his chest and scuttle backward, pushing myself up against the wall, looking over my blood covered hands.

It’s over, he’s gone.

My hand flies to my mouth as I sit staring at him, tears running down my cheeks.

I’m free.





I tear up the dirt track and have to squint through the dust cloud my wheels are kicking up. She has to be here, I have no idea where else she could be otherwise. And she has to be okay. I swear if she’s not…

My heart pounds with adrenaline as we get closer, I know the safe house is just around this corner coming up. Jacques hasn’t stopped asking me where we’re headed, but I’m too focussed on getting there to explain anything to him. I round the corner with a skid and he nearly goes flying off the back.

“Shit, Hunter. Slow down!”

“No! We’re here and so is he!” I shout.

Up ahead there’s a black cage and Taz’s bike sitting outside a shabby old house, at least that’s what it looks like from the outside. It isn’t actually a house, it’s a reinforced safe house we use if we ever need to hide guns, drugs or people. It’s all on one floor with only three rooms so we can protect the place easy enough, but we haven’t had to use it in years, so it’s looking run down.

“Hunter, that’s the cage he had me drive, she must be here,” Jacques says.

I just nod my head while I jump off my bike, raiding the saddlebag for my hunting knife and my 9mm. I sheath the knife in my belt but keep the gun in my hand. This fuckers going down. Tonight.

Jacques tries to follow me but I stick out my hand.“Jacques, you’re staying here.”

He squares up to me. “The hell I am! You’re not going in there alone!”

“If anything happens to you-”

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