Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
And he’s big. Athletic and muscular. The sort of man who keeps himself in shape. I catch a hint of something spicy as he moves toward the car, looking more thoughtful than angry, and I start to wonder who the heck just caught me.
He’s not a cop, that’s for sure. Maybe just someone else who keeps their car here? If that’s the case, I can still get away. My mask is still covering my face. He has no idea who I am.
But I’m frozen solid.
“Not half bad,” he says, sounding amused as he runs his gloved fingers over the dry paint. “Shame though. This car is a real beauty. At least, it was.” He turns back to me and gestures to his face. “You don’t need that.”
“I don’t… I mean, what—“
He mimes pulling the mask off. “The cameras aren’t working.”
“How do you know?”
“I disabled them an hour ago.”
That makes me take a step back. He looks to the car again, humming to himself as he casually strolls around it, chuckling at some of the colorful language I scrawled on the hood. When he reaches the far side, he calmly and meticulously takes what looks like a small steel hammer and smashes the driver’s side window.
The car freaks out. The alarm blares, shockingly loud in the enclosed space. I gape in utter astonishment, my knees shaking, as the stranger unlocks the car, climbs in, and does something to the wheel block. I catch motion and suddenly the alarm goes silent like it was never screaming at all.
This is fucking crazy.
That guy’s stealing Kieren’s car. I have to… call the police! Report this to someone! I can’t let him pull a grand theft auto right in front of me without intervening. That would make me complicit.
But also… what the heck am I going to do? Explain to the cops that yes, I vandalized the vehicle, but it’s fine, this guy is doing something worse!
Shit, crap, dang it, what is happening right now?
“Hey, you,” I say, forcing my stuck legs to start moving. I hiss at him in a sharp whisper. “Hey, what are you doing?!”
“Looking around.” He’s bent over, rifling through the center console. He comes out with a pair of chunky black sunglasses and tosses them over his shoulder.
“Hey! Asshole, those are mine!” I snatch them off the ground and pause, noting my mistake. Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. But if he noticed, he doesn’t seem to care.
I watch in horror as he tosses through the car. Glove compartment, cupholders, even looks under the seats with a little pen light. He seems disappointed when it’s done and doesn’t bother taking anything.
“Hey, love, do me a favor.” He gestures at the backpack on the ground beside him as he squints in concentration. He’s messing with the wires under the wheel again. “There’s a big can inside there. Could you grab it?”
“What? Are you crazy? I’m not going to help you rob this car.”
“Oh, I’m not stealing anything, don’t worry.” He lets out a grunt of satisfaction as the engine turns over and the vehicle comes to life.
“Sure seems like you just hotwired it.”
“I know, right? Are you impressed?” He turns and faces me, one wrist hanging over the wheel, a confident and obscenely handsome smile on his face. “Don’t worry. I’m not leaving with anything.”
“Who are you? And what are you even doing?”
He seems to consider for a beat before he pushes himself out of the car. “My name’s Liam. And I’m looking for your ex-boyfriend.”
I take a big step back as my heart races into my throat. He reaches into his bag and takes out what looks like a fat metal canister.
He knows who I am.
Oh God. I’m screwed. I’m totally fucked. If anyone finds out I did this, my father’s going to disown me. I’ll be disgraced, my family will be embarrassed, and I’ll end up living on the streets or something. My dad won’t even hesitate to fire my ass if it means covering his own.
Liam opens the canister and I get a sharp whiff of gasoline. He splashes some into the car, on the passenger side seat, into the back on the rear bench, whistling tunelessly again. He leans back out and shakes the can at it, the gas splooshing around.
“Want to douse it?”
“I don’t… I mean, are you about to…” My eyes drop to the can, mouth hanging open. “How the hell do you know who I am?”
“Well, not many people in this world would want to spray paint cheater on the side of Kieren Foley’s vehicle. I figured it was either his current girlfriend or his former. You seemed like the better bet.” His eyes lock on mine and he’s still wearing that infuriating smile. “Regan.”
Yep, he knows.
And I am so beyond fucked.
But there’s something about this guy. He doesn’t seem angry about the spray paint. If anything, he looks extremely amused. Then there’s him breaking in, looking for something, and now pouring gasoline inside…