Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 57726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57726 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“A big truck like a semi or a small truck like a pickup?” Winnie asked.
“Think a delivery van,” Scythe said.
“One. There are only five big boxes. They’re heavy. I can’t move them.” Winnie didn’t want anyone to hurt themselves.
“We’ll manage,” Scythe assured her.
Winnie considered his muscles and nodded. “You’re more ripped than me.” She made a fist and curled her forearm to reveal a miniscule biceps.
Again, with the exchange of glances between the men.
“That’s not very nice,” she muttered.
“What’s not nice?” Scythe asked.
“You’re talking about me. And not nicely.” She reused that word deliberately to make her point.
“Let’s go get those guns, Winnifred,” Scythe said, sounding weary.
“Take Street, Hellcat, and Vex,” Lucien directed. “I’ll have them meet you at the back door.”
“And you’ll pay me?” Winnie made herself ask.
“Yes, Winnie. I’ll make sure you get paid,” Scythe told her.
“Thank you!” She hurried to pick up her shoes as Scythe steered her toward the door. Peering over her shoulder, she called, “Nice meeting you, Mr. Lucien.”
“It has been a novelty for me, Winnifred,” Lucien told her gently.
Chapter 2
The music swirled around them as Scythe and Winnie walked through the door. They made it down three steps before Winnie stopped in her tracks as she stared down at the crowd.
“That can’t be. Oh, no! Hide me!” Winnie dove under Scythe’s leather cut and hid her face against his chest.
For once in his life, Scythe had no idea what to do. Dealing with the most pressing problem, he pulled the talon heels away from where they dug dangerously close to his privates after she’d trapped them between their bodies. He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and leaned down to ask, “Winnifred? Can you walk or do you need me to carry you out?”
“Is he still staring?”
“Who?”
“That guy down there in the brown suit, blue shirt, and green tie.”
Scythe shook his head at that description. Nobody dressed like that at Inferno. He scanned the crowd and found him. “He looks like an insurance salesman. Who let him in?”
“He’s the superintendent of my school district. He’ll fire me if he catches me here—dressed like this!” She could hear his complaint against her already, declaring her someone with low morals in close contact with impressionable kids. Adam Young had taught social studies and coached for three years before applying for an administrative position. When he received his doctorate, he moved up the ladder at central office.
“Let’s get you out of here. Keep your face hidden.” Scythe reached around Winnie and hoisted the barely dressed woman off the ground. She was as stiff as a log.
Scythe couldn’t believe the amount of trust she’d placed in him, a virtual stranger, and one who’d not treated her with kid gloves. He’d battled his admiration of her pluck and quirkiness during the whole interaction. Scythe bet her students loved her.
“Everything okay, Scythe?” Gamble asked as he reached the end of the stairs.
“Fine.”
“Better have her move so the audience watching you doesn’t think you are carrying a dead body out of Lucien’s office,” Gamble suggested.
Winnie’s head reared back. His hands full of Winnifred, Scythe leaned his face close to hers to block everyone’s view. “Hide, Chipmunk.”
She nodded and extended her neck to press a kiss to his cheek. Inwardly, Scythe growled at that offense. He wasn’t a golden retriever. Out of the corner of his eye, Scythe watched the man’s head turn to focus on them. His hands full, Scythe did the only thing he could to hide her. He pressed his mouth to hers and froze when her lips moved hungrily under his. Surprised by her passion, he took a fraction of a second to respond as intensely as she did.
Scythe tightened one arm around her torso and slid the other hand up to press her forehead to his chest as he raised his head. With her features hidden once again, he strode for the rear entrance, weaving his way through the crowd. He passed the man in the suit, avoiding his gaze.
Once outside the back door, he carried her past the smokers and vapers to a shadowy patch. Setting her bare feet on the concrete, Scythe said, “He didn’t see your face. Sorry about the kiss. I had to act fast there.”
“It was a solid C+. I’m sure with practice you can get better. Maybe you have a friend who could help you fine-tune your skills?”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, completely baffled.
“Oh, sorry. I always rate kisses. You got a C+. That’s good….” Her voice trailed away.
“You think I need to practice kissing?”
“Well, only if you want to get better,” she suggested.
Scythe shook his head and chose to abandon this line of conversation. “Let’s go get the supplies you’ve promised.”
He unlocked the gate into the warehouse area behind Inferno and escorted her into the area. Mud from that day’s workmen covered the pathway. When she paused, unwilling to step into the muck, Scythe lifted her to drape over his shoulder. As she sputtered with indignation, he relocked the gate.