Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 76(@300wpm)
Fuck. It’s bad enough I’m the one who sent her off, but I can’t let Hernando send his dogs after her.
“You paid me to clean up, so I’ll clean up,” I say calmly. Too calm. Battling against every instinct to snap.
“Are you sure?” Hernando looks puzzled.
“Yeah,” I growl. “She’s min—” I stop. Too close to overplaying my hand. “My responsibility.”
He doesn’t ask what I mean, and it’s for the best.
I don’t want to become the cartel’s number one target.
Twenty-four hours.
I’m slipping.
I should’ve had her in my arms last night, but with the shitty resolution on Eduardo’s security cameras, it’s a miracle my tech guy found her at all. But times like these remind me why I work with him. He’s the best tracker in the business, and I only work with the best.
But now that I’m pulling up to the dilapidated house, more akin to a shack than a castle for a princess, I feel … odd. Almost uncomfortable. As if this isn’t a measure to protect her, but to take her on a damned date.
Keep it together, man.
First things first, get her out of here. Don Bernal might be satisfied with me handling this, but Rico? He’d shoot his own mother if it meant getting one over on the Ghost.
I stop my car on the gravel driveway and watch for a moment. Shadows dance behind the drawn curtains, but I’m not surprised to see another inside. From the intel we gathered, the house belongs to her mother. Suppose I should’ve put more thought into what I was going to say before I got here. How I was going to whisk her away without raising suspicion.
I’ll just have to come up with something on the spot because this can’t wait.
Christ, what the fuck’s wrong with me?
I’m not here to talk.
I’m here to take.
And nothing’s going to stop me.
3
GEMMA
“We can’t go over this again, Mom. We need to go.” I’ve spent the last twenty hours preparing to leave, but Mom hasn’t been too keen on the idea.
I’m sure that Ghost letting me run is a sign of our safety. That if he wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be here checking and double-checking my luggage for the essentials. But putting distance between us and Hamlet is the best way to know we’re safe.
“I don’t understand. What’s the rush?” Mom’s brow furrows.
Even though I’m not face down in some ditch, I can’t be certain I’m in the clear. Trying to explain that to her without exposing the gory details has been challenging.
“If we don’t go soon, we’re going to—”
“It’s the middle of the night.” Mom scoffs. “Don’t worry, little Gem. I’ll get you to school on time.”
Her words hit me like an arrow through the heart.
“We talked about this.” I reach out to touch her shoulder. “We need to go away for a bit. A little vacation for just the two of us.”
“But we can’t.” She snaps her head side to side. “Your dad’s picking you up after school. You know how he gets when things don’t go according to plan.”
My heart sinks into my stomach. Dad’s been gone for over a decade. A classic case of stepping out for a box of smokes and never coming back.
“Mom,” I start, catching the threat of tears in the back of my throat. “I’m twenty-one, remember? You baked me a cake. We ate it together on the couch, watching old movies.”
Her eyes narrow like I’m lying.
I turn away from Mom, staring outside the kitchen window and into the night. But the fear of her seeing me cry is short-lived when I see bright white headlights parked just outside our yard.
Had it been any other car, it wouldn’t be cause for alarm. However, the sleek SUV that blends into its black surroundings isn’t what you’d see in my neighborhood.
Which can mean only one thing.
We took too long.
“I don’t remember that.” Mom’s talking more to herself than to me. “My, how time flies.”
The headlights dim, and the car door swings open. Then he steps out. Tall, broad-shouldered, and rigid in a way that shouldn’t be this hot. I don’t even have to see his face, or rather his mask, to know it’s Ghost. No one can command this sense of power other than him.
“Mom, I need you to go to your room.”
“You just said we need to leave?”
“Please. Just do it.” I’d be screaming if I weren’t stunned in awe of the goliath approaching our front door.
He disappears out of the window's view, and my heart starts pounding against my ribcage while I wait for it.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
There it is.
“Mom, go to your room.”
“Someone’s at the door. I should ans—”
“I’ll get it.”
I wait for Mom to leave before I head to the door. By the time I reach it, my belly’s doing cartwheels, and I’m ready to collapse. I’m afraid. I should be after what happened. And his arrival at my house can’t spell anything good, either.