Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Just as that last thought runs through my mind, a large delivery truck barrels out of an alley behind us and then slams on its brakes.
“Hey,” I say. “Wait a minute. It’s blocking my guys.” I don’t know when they became my guys, but I go with it.
Joseph turns toward me. “I am really sorry about this.”
Dread slides through my veins on the heels of a rush of adrenaline. “Sorry about what?”
The window partition between the front and back seat goes down and a man turns to us with a gun pointed at Cage.
I blink. “What’s going on, Joseph?”
I don’t recognize the man, and the weapon has one of those slider things on it. Wait a minute. It’s a silencer.
Cage shakes his head. “I’m sorry. They didn’t give me a choice.”
“Who didn’t give you a choice?” Alarm clashes through me. I leap toward the door and frantically pull on the handle. Nothing.
“It’s locked,” the guy in the front seat says. I can see the back of the head of a driver who’s another man I don’t recognize.
I gape at my friend. How is this possible? I called him with the news that I needed to go to the police station. I set this up—not him. “What did you do?”
“They didn’t give me a choice and were waiting at the curb for me at the firm.”
The man from the front fires with a small pop. I jolt and push myself across the seat. Blood spurts from Cage’s forehead, and his eyes widen before he slumps backward.
I can’t move. Every cell in my body is frozen. I slowly turn from staring at the clear hole in Joseph’s head to look at the man in the front seat.
He smiles. “We no longer need him.”
I gag several times and then swallow to keep from throwing up. “Who are you?”
“Nobody that matters.”
I look at my dead friend. “I beg to differ.”
The shooter smiles. “Throw me your purse.”
I grab my purse and hold it on my lap. “No. You’re not going to get it.”
He fires quickly into the seat next to me, and puffs of fabric billow up through the leather. I scream and try to get away.
“The next one goes in your leg. Just your shin because we need you alive, but it’s going to hurt.”
Fury takes me and I throw my purse at him.
“Thank you,” he says politely, turning and lowering his window. He throws my entire purse out onto the street and then rolls the window back up. “We wouldn’t want anybody to trace you, would we?” The window partition between us rises.
I look at Joseph’s limp body, and bile rises from my stomach again. I can’t believe he’s dead. “How did you know I’d call him?”
The brute up front shrugs. “My employer has bugged the phones of whoever we could in your circle. Didn’t get everybody, but your lawyer was easy.”
Poor Joseph. All he did was get into the wrong town car. Why did I call him? This is my fault. I pull frantically on the door handle, and nothing happens, so I move over to Cage’s side and do the same, careful not to touch him. I’m definitely locked in. I pat his pockets down, searching for anything to use as a weapon. He doesn’t have a phone or knife on him.
There isn’t anything that will help me in this vehicle, so I roll over onto my back, putting my head on poor Joseph’s thigh, and kick the window as hard as I can. The glass barely even moves. I do it several more times.
Nothing.
We soon arrive at a more residential area and keep driving until the car stops at a massive gilded gate. Armed men guard both sides of it. The gate opens, and we drive up a long driveway with trees on either side, to reach what can only be called a mansion. It appears even bigger than Alana’s family home.
My door opens. The driver grabs my arm and pulls me out. I turn sideways and kick his knee.
He throws me back against the car. “Knock it off.”
Pain lashes through my shoulder. I halt and stare at the three-story, white-brick monstrosity in front of me. Wide white columns stand every few feet, appearing to support the entire front of the building. The double door is black, gilded, and larger than any I’ve ever seen. It opens and Lillian Sokolov walks out, her shoulders straight and her hair back to being platinum blond.
“How nice of you to join me.” She smiles, no longer looking older than her age.
THIRTY-NINE
Alexei
I’m just about finished with issuing the strategy for these forty men. They now have a job to do—going out on arranged meetings to bring more followers to our side.
Finally, the last one leaves, and Garik walks over to me at the bar. “I trust about half of them, but if you show strong leadership through the next year, I think you’ll receive their full loyalty. It’s a strong force.”