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)
He's there, sprinting through the gloom. Liam grabs my wrist and yanks me hard, dragging me behind him. I yelp in pain as I’m forced to keep up, my little legs struggling to pace his longer strides. Liam’s laughing as he goes and we burst out onto the sidewalk together, the cool, clean night air tasting like heaven on my ashy tongue as I drag in deep hacking gasps.
“This way,” Liam says, tugging me along. He moves at a jog away from the garage in the opposite direction of where I want to be.
“Hold on, I’m back that way.”
“Not anymore you’re not, love.” He keeps going, his pace slowing once we’re over a block away.
“What are you talking about?”
“You and me need to have a chat.” He glances over, his smile fading. There’s that dangerous, dark gleam in his expression, the way he considers me as though I might be a good meal. I shiver, terror prickling in the back of my head.
“Listen, what happened back there, that was crazy. But please, I want to go home.”
Liam ignores me, walking fast, making sure I’m staying with him. “Can’t let you do that.”
“Why not?” I hate the whiny note of desperation in my voice. I wish I could be brave, but I’m not. I’m such a coward I can’t even jaywalk without feeling like I’m going to be thrown in prison.
Much less light a car on fire.
Sirens blare in the distance. I let out a pathetic moan as my fear doubles.
“Because if you don’t stick with me, you’ll get caught, and I’m betting you don’t want that.”
“Where are we going?”
“Back to my place. It’s not far.”
Oh shit. Oh god. If I go with this guy, back to some strange apartment—
What is he going to do to me?
“I just want to go home,” I whisper.
He must hear the note of pure, bleak terror in my voice, because he slows and looks at me. His lips press together thoughtfully. “I’m not going to hurt you, love.”
“How do I know that? You just appeared out of nowhere and lit my ex’s car on fire.”
“True, though you helped.”
“I barely did anything!”
“You lit the match. That’s a lot.”
“Are you seriously arguing with me right now?”
He shrugs, that smirk coming back. “What if I swore you’d get home completely safe? Would you take my word?”
“Probably not!”
“Alright, Regan, that’s fair.” He leans in closer, tone softening. “What if I let you hold a gun to my head the whole time we talked?”
I gape at him, genuinely not sure if he’s kidding. I quickly shake my head. “Who are you? Seriously, who are you, and what were you doing in that parking garage?”
“We’ll talk at my place.” His eyes move straight ahead and he seems disappointed that I didn’t agree to press the barrel of a gun to his skull. What the heck is wrong with this guy?
“No, we’ll talk now.” I say stubbornly. “You said you disabled the cameras. Why would you do that?”
“So nobody would catch me when I broke into the car.”
“Did you plan on burning it from the start?”
“That was one potential outcome.”
“Did you know I was going to be there?”
“No, you were a happy accident.”
I stop walking. He turns, his hand like iron on my wrist, but he doesn’t yank me. “What the hell do you want with Kieren? Seriously, who are you?”
I don’t know why I’m suddenly worried about my ex, but this is all wrong. Liam’s clearly not the kind of person I’d want rooting around my car. He’s the sort of man who shows up to make a mess, not to clean one up, and I get a terrible, sinking feeling that Kieren is in a lot of trouble.
Even more than cheating on me and ruining my life.
“My name’s Liam Lankshear. I work for Finn Whelan. Now will you please get moving again?” The sirens are louder now. We’re a few blocks from the garage, but not far enough. He closes some of the distance between us. “Either that, or we can pretend like we’re a couple of lovers having a quarrel, and when the cops come searching this area, we can start making up—“
My eyes widen. “They’ll search?”
“Of course they will. Now are we going to make out in a dirty alleyway like two horny teens? Or are you going to follow me to my place where it’s safe until this shit blows over?”
I hesitate, heart thrumming, but that name zings around my mind.
Whelan.
It’s a name I know well, much too well, even if that family exists as a vague specter in my life. I’ve heard my father speaking about them, heard him mention meetings with major figures in their organization. I’ve even seen hints and whispers of them in the books of my father’s construction company.
“Alright, okay, fine. You really work for the Whelans?”