Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
The place where everything changed.
Jude didn’t usually waste time feeling sentimental about a house, but he was doing a lot of things these days that he didn’t normally do. He tossed the suitcase into the bed of the truck and opened the door, taking in his surroundings. There was no movement from the O’Connor house, but he didn’t expect there to be, and the rest of the street was deserted. The rain would keep people inside, which was a goddamn blessing in disguise because it meant he didn’t have to worry about someone wandering over to make small talk the second he left his front porch. He slammed the door behind Sloan and wasted no time getting into the driver’s side and gunning the engine.
With every street they passed, the tension wound tighter between his shoulder blades. There weren’t any warning signs, no indication that someone was following them, and he’d scoured the truck for bugs before he’d gone to check on Sloan while she packed. But it was still too easy. There should be something.
As if on cue, his satellite phone rang. He cursed and yanked it out of his jacket. “What?”
“Going somewhere?”
How the hell did that Russian fucker know? Jude checked the rearview again, but there wasn’t any other vehicle on the road. Then again, with the godforsaken trees trying to encroach on the highway and the way the pavement dipped and twisted, it was entirely possible that he had a tail just out of sight. There weren’t many ways in or out of Callaway Rock beyond Route 101. He could go north toward Seaside and cut east to Portland and hope to lose them there, or head south toward California…None of them good options.
He kept his voice detached, ignoring the questioning look Sloan sent him. “I was under the impression that we were aligned and you were going to mind your own goddamn business in the meantime.”
Romanov sighed. “Things have escalated, and we need to reevaluate.”
“That’s unfortunate. For you.”
“We’re in this together, MacNamara.”
Except they weren’t. Dmitri wanted Colm dead—hell, Jude still wanted Colm dead—but the Russian was more right than he knew. Things had escalated faster than anyone could have anticipated. With Sloan’s potential pregnancy in the equation, gunning for Colm on someone else’s schedule was too much of a risk to take. “The timeline has changed.”
“Unacceptable.”
He shot a look at Sloan. She was staring out the window at the dark trees as they flew down the road, but she would hear every word he said. And why not? She knew who he was now. She knew what he did—what he had planned on doing. He’d promised to leave Callista and Sorcha alive and unscathed, and he had no intention of breaking that promise.
But his chances of getting to Colm Sheridan without putting Callista in the crossfire could be complicated. He had to go back to square one and rework his plan from there. “You can say ‘unacceptable’ all you want, but you know better than to rush me.”
“Colm and Callista Sheridan have dinner at their favorite restaurant every week. There’s an apartment across the street with a perfect view of two of the three entrances. I expect you to make good use of it.”
Jude white-knuckled the steering wheel. “I don’t appreciate you doing my job for me.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t about to go back on your word.” Dmitri waited a beat. “You know what I do to people who break their word to me.”
“I’m not breaking my word. I just need more time. In the meantime, however you’re tracking me, fucking stop it. Or any consideration I have of working with you will disappear and I’ll take my chances elsewhere.”
“Do not cross me. You will be at that apartment with the appropriate weapons before their Sunday dinner—one way or another.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you going to kidnap me?”
Dmitri snorted. “Please spare me the dramatics. Once your identity is out, who do you think is going to be blamed if both the remaining Sheridans are assassinated?”
Even if I don’t pull the trigger, he’s going to make sure everyone thinks I did.
The realization sat like a stone in his stomach. The Russian had effectively backed him into a corner, and he didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do about it. He wouldn’t shed a single damn tear if Colm Sheridan was taken out with a bullet from someone other than him. But Callista…
Knowing she was pregnant, he’d be no better than Colm if he sat back and didn’t do anything to stop it. No better than Romanov.
Fuck. “I’ll be there.” At least then he could ensure the only person who died was the one who deserved it. Don’t know how I’m going to explain that to Sloan, though.