Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55606 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Struggling to calm his emotions, he paced back and forth, knowing he had to focus on this task so he could turn his attention to the far more important one—Jasmine.
“Fuck you,” Robert snarled. “I thought you were going to kill me.”
“I was.” A simple shrug. “But it would take time because I would have to wipe this place down.” He reclaimed his position by the window and watched. According to his timepiece the meet should be starting in three minutes.
“Christ, it sounds like you’ve fucking fallen in love.”
“Not your goddamn business.” He didn’t look away from the building entrance.
“You know she was a whore and a drug addict.” Derision filled Robert’s tone.
“I know she did what she did in order to survive. She isn’t a whore and she doesn’t do drugs now. In fact, she has risen back to her rightful place at the top despite all the shit your people threw at her.” Angling his head slightly to see the man stumbling to his spot by the other window, he sneered in his direction. “I understand why she didn’t trust you or your people. Just like I understand why her name makes your ass pucker. Because she is the best you had, you lost her, and knowing she is back and could blow up whatever op went sideways in your faces, well, it scares the shit out of you. And it should.”
A black SUV pulled up and he clamped his jaw shut. Tension rose in the room as he watched four men pour out. Federal agents. Never did know how to blend in. They spoke into their wrist pieces and spread out as the vehicle moved on. One of them stopped before entering the building and glanced around, lasering in on the building they were in.
Lance froze, and in his periphery he noticed Robert doing the same thing. Unease skittered up his spine and he narrowed his gaze.
What are the chances this is nothing but another setup?
He feared those chances were astronomically high. A low rumble rolled up from his chest. Was I a fucking idiot and trusted this man only to find myself in the situation my Jasmine had been in?
Another vehicle paused in front of the building and three others got out. There was no missing the way they tugged shirts over weapons. As subtly as he could, he shifted his body to take in Robert as well.
I fucked up, royally.
By the snort coming from Robert, the move wasn’t something that he didn’t miss. Lance didn’t give a fuck. Right now he had a singular focus, get out of here alive so he could track down his woman.
And grovel for her forgiveness.
“Fuck.” Robert lurched away from the window.
Lance glanced out and threw himself back just as a plethora of bullets shattered the glass. Rolling, he popped back up to his feet, palming his sidearm. As he bit back a curse, or twelve, he looked out again, seeing Dusan Jankovic and his men rushing across the street toward the building he was currently in.
“Help me.”
Lance gazed to Robert and shook his head. The man had a bullet wound in his gut and had sunk to his knees, hand clasped over the hole.
“How the fuck did they know we were here?” Not that he needed an answer, he had it.
“I had to give him something. My family…”
“If you weren’t already dying because of that wound, I’d fucking kill you myself. If there is any chance you make it out of here and I see you again, you’ll wish you’d let Jasmine kill you for the hell I will put you through.”
There was so much more he longed to say to this man, but he knew his time for getting out alive was dwindling. Still…
He punched him in the jaw, taking precious seconds to enjoy his head snapping back before running for the door. Instead of going down, he took a deep breath and headed up. There was no point in calling the cops, not unless he wanted to have deaths on his conscience.
Dashing up three flights, he headed for the roof and kicked open the door. Checking his position, he ran for the far side and pulled up short.
Fuck me.
He had to jump. Stepping away from the edge, he tucked his sidearm in the back of his jeans and rubbed his chest, which still fucking hurt from the beatdown he’d taken from Dusan’s idiot son. It was going to hurt.
One last deep breath and he ran for the edge, launching himself off at the last possible second. Arms flailing as he bridged the gap, he grunted in pain as he landed and rolled.
Weapon in hand again, he ran for the access door. It was locked. Finding a pipe not far away, he wrenched the piece from its housing and smashed off the outside doorknob. When the chassis and spindle fell, he spun the pipe then punched through the borehole, sending rest of the components through to fall inside. Without the rest of the structure holding it secure, the latch assembly was barely any resistance for him to get inside.