Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 69524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“What is it that you’re not saying, Dane?”
As always, she sees right through me.
“We need to leave the country because Stephen is dead,” I say, flat and matter of fact.
“What?” Her eyes go wide, and she reels back.
My arms tighten around her, trapping her.
“He tried to rape you,” I growl. “I saved you.”
“And you…” She swallows hard. “You killed him?”
“Yes. He can never hurt you like that again.”
“No.” She tries to pull away again, but I don’t allow it.
“It’s done, Abigail.”
The sooner we can move past this, the better.
“You killed someone, Dane!” she exclaims, as though she can’t quite believe it.
“To protect you,” I counter roughly.
I don’t like the way she’s looking at me. Like she doesn’t know what I’m capable of.
She hasn’t looked at me like that since the day we fucked in the ruined barn in the rain.
“That’s worse!” she cries. “That means it’s my fault.”
“It’s his fault,” I snap. “That bastard drugged you. He was going to rape you. The world is a safer place without him in it. You’re safer.”
She threads her hands through her hair. “No, no, no.”
“It’s all right.” I try to soothe her, but she cringes away from my tender touch.
My heart shreds into bloody ribbons.
“Let me go,” she moans. “Let me go, Dane!”
I grasp her closer. “I can’t.”
A sharp knock on the penthouse door shatters the awful moment. I want to ignore it. I don’t want to put an inch of space between my body and hers.
Another knock, harder this time. “North Yorkshire Police.”
Fuck.
How are they here already? What clue did I leave behind that would so obviously lead to me?
I smooth my hair into a neater style and climb off the bed. I’m already dressed, ready to head to London the moment Abigail was prepared.
I can deal with the police. I just have to remember how to put on my charming mask.
They have nothing concrete connecting me to the crime. They can’t.
Even if they did have forensic evidence that raised suspicion, there’s no way it’s been processed this quickly.
I take a breath, summon up an expression of confusion and mild concern, then open the door.
“What’s this about?” I ask, affable but bewildered.
The uniformed woman peers past me, looking for something. Or someone.
“Is Abigail Foster here?” she asks, her voice clipped and official.
Abigail.
Why would they want to talk to her?
“I’m here,” she says from behind me, and I bite back a curse. “What do you need?”
For a moment, fear swamps me. She’s going to turn me in. She’s going to tell them that I killed Stephen.
But she doesn’t say anything else. She steps up beside me and takes my hand in hers, just like when she defended me in front of my family.
I stare down at her with open awe.
She’s frightened of my murderous capabilities, but she’s still standing by me. She’s still choosing me.
“Abigail Foster, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Stephen Lansing.”
“No!” I bark, angling my body between the officer and Abigail.
There’s another officer at the end of the hall. He fixes me with a grim stare and comes to join his partner.
“Step aside,” he warns me.
Horror crashes down on me, heavy enough that my knees threaten to buckle.
Abigail was Stephen’s last appointment yesterday. There will be a written record of it. The police might’ve already found some sort of drugs in his office. His time of death will align with the time she was in the gallery.
I killed Stephen to save her, but I condemned her.
“Sir, I need you to step aside. Now,” the woman insists.
“I’m the one you want.” My voice is cold, utterly unfeeling.
Both officers look at me, and they immediately recognize the face of a predator. I don’t try to hide it. I let them see exactly what I am.
“Dane, no!”
Abigail’s hand tightens around mine, but I yank free of her weaker hold.
Prison has always been my worst-case scenario, ever since the day I shoved Peter out of the window when I was eleven years old. I’ve spent my entire life since then avoiding this fate.
I wanted so badly to have Abigail, but I was never worthy of her.
I never will be.
“I killed Stephen Lansing,” I announce without an ounce of remorse.
After everything I’ve done to Abigail, redemption isn’t possible. I stalked her and violated her. I kidnapped her and caged her. The least I can do now is walk into a cage of my own to save her.