Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Except James didn’t really have a shot. All he had was stolen time.
He knew that—fuck, it was a truth he couldn’t escape—but the thought still soured his stomach. He wasn’t sure if knowing she obviously wanted him as much has he wanted her made things better or worse. Carrigan was the calm in the middle of the hurricane that was his life. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense because half the time she drove him up the wall, but the second her hand slipped into his, the tightness in his chest loosened, just a little, and he could breathe again.
He led the way out onto the street and waited for her to text her driver. “He’s trustworthy?”
“As trustworthy as anyone is. Though if you kill me and dump my body in a ditch, he’s going to take it personally.”
James snorted. “Lovely, there are half a million things I’d love to do to your body, and not a single one of them includes pain, let alone death.”
“That’s… comforting.” She turned off her phone and dropped it into her purse. It brought his attention to her clothing. He’d been so focused on getting that asshole out of his presence that he had to step back and take a look at the long white dress she wore tonight. It was different from the one he’d last seen her in—there was a definite Grecian feel to the way the fabric fell around her, but it was white and it covered more skin than it exposed.
“White is the last color I’d choose for you.”
She shot him a sharp look. “You don’t get an opinion.”
“Maybe not, but those tiny little excuses for dresses that you wear to the club are more you than this.” He pinched the fabric that fell from her hips, and lifted it a little before letting it flutter back into place. “What would you wear if you weren’t trying to play a role?”
“Maybe one day I’ll show you.” She moved past him, the dress giving her the illusion of floating over the ground instead of walking on it. “Where’s your car?”
“This way.” They strode around the corner to the tiny parking lot. He held the door open for her and then took the driver’s seat. “You up for a little drive?”
“As if you have to ask.” She ran her hand lovingly over the dashboard. “I could spend days in this car.”
He pulled out of the parking lot, picturing what a road trip with Carrigan would look like. Would she wear jeans? Maybe kick off her shoes and prop her bare feet on the dash? Would she laugh as the wind whipped her long hair around, her green eyes hidden by a pair of oversized sunglasses?
He liked the image. He liked the image too damn much.
He drove out of Boston, heading north. The falling night was clear and cold, and the roads were almost deserted. From time to time, he glanced at Carrigan, but she’d pulled her knees to her chest and was staring out the passenger window, obviously lost in thought. James wanted to know what she was thinking. Fuck, he wanted to know everything. But he didn’t have a right to.
Beyond that, he had a feeling that she got even less time to herself than he did. So he drove in silence and let his mind wander. He’d been so focused on Ricky, he’d almost forgotten about the shipment of girls coming in soon. Just thinking about it made him feel dirty. Yeah, he wasn’t going to set them up as slaves for his own purposes, but that was a cold comfort. Because it was just one shipment. There would be others that he couldn’t help. Once the flesh peddlers realized he wasn’t in the business anymore, they’d take their merchandise elsewhere. James seriously doubted whoever bought those girls would feel as sick about it as he did.
What if I kept buying them?
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It wasn’t possible… was it? He couldn’t just buy the girls and then set them loose. That’d be almost as fucked up as keeping them. They’d each need to be offered a choice, and if they chose to go out on their own, they’d need their own start-up fund. That’d drain resources that were already strained.
But if all his legit businesses started to see the increase that Tit for Tat did…
It was something to think about. The Hallorans put so much evil out into the world. Maybe it was time for him to start balancing the ledgers.
He glanced at Carrigan again. What would she think of the so-called plan? Before he could think better of it, he said, “If you were going to buy up women from the flesh trade and set them free, how would you go about it?” He braced for her to look at him like he was out of his mind, but she just twined a strand of hair around her finger and frowned.