Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Focus.
It’s only a matter of time before someone else stumbles onto this scene. Dmitri, my right-hand man, is already on the phone organizing a clean-up crew. In minutes, the body will be gone, and this scene will be sanitized.
Dmitri ends his call, and I turn to my men.
“Find her.”
3
HOLLY
I have to call the police.
But in the worst poor timing ever, my phone has died, and the cab driver doesn’t want to hear about a murder and keeps shaking his head and telling me I’m mistaken when I tell him what I saw.
So I have to wait until I get to my apartment to make a call from the landline.
But when I try it, the line is dead. Then I remember hearing from one of the guests at the gallery how an earlier storm has taken out the phone lines.
I put the phone down and run my hands through my hair, my heart hammering so hard I can hear it in my ears.
I just saw a man get murdered in an alleyway. Saw his blood spreading in the rain, turning the puddles red.
Goosebumps crawl across my skin. I pace the floor. My small apartment feels like a trap closing around me.
Think, Holly.
In hindsight, I should’ve had the cab driver take me to the police station instead of here. But I was panicked and confused and wasn’t thinking straight.
So take a cab to the station now. Then get out of town for a few days.
Hands shaking, I start to throw clothes into a suitcase, not bothering to fold anything. Jeans, sweaters, toiletries. Everything goes in haphazardly. I just need to move, to do something, to get the hell out of Seattle before…
Before what? Before he finds me?
I press my palms against the dresser to try to steady my breathing, and the face of the handsome stranger flashes behind my eyelids. His piercing blue eyes tracking me with the focus of a predator spotting prey.
You're being paranoid, I try to reassure myself. He doesn't know who you are. Doesn't know where you live.
But my body doesn't believe the lie. Every instinct I have screams that I’m in danger.
He knew your name.
After slipping on a pair of sneakers, I zip the suitcase closed and grab my purse, mentally cataloging my escape route. Down the service elevator to avoid the lobby, out the side entrance, and grab a cab to the police station.
But when I pull my suitcase across the floor toward the door, I hear it.
A soft click.
The sound of my apartment door unlocking.
I freeze, ice flooding my veins.
It swings open slowly, and he fills the doorway.
The handsome stranger with the bright blue eyes.
And they're locked on me.
"Hello, Holly." His voice is a low rumble, wrapping around my name in a way that makes my stomach twist.
"How do you know my name?" My voice comes out as barely a whisper.
He steps into the room and closes the door behind him.
He moves with predatory grace, each step measured and purposeful. "I’m a very resourceful man.”
“I didn’t see anything,” I say.
He tilts his head. “We both know that’s a lie.”
I back away from him. My heart beats so hard, it’s like it’s trying to escape my body.
"What do you want?" I try to sound brave, but my voice shakes.
His gaze travels over me slowly, starting at my face and moving down. I'm suddenly hyperaware of what I'm wearing, just the simple black dress, now wrinkled and damp from the rain and sweat.
"You're coming with me." It isn't a question. It's a statement delivered in that low voice that does something to my insides.
"Like hell I am." The words come out stronger than I feel.
One dark eyebrow arches. "I’m not asking.”
“And I’m not coming.”
“You witnessed something tonight. Something that puts you in considerable danger."
"From you."
"From many people. I'm actually the safest option available to you right now, malyshka."
"Go to hell. I'm not going anywhere with you. I'll scream."
"Not for long,” The warning in his voice sends fear spiraling through me. “Your choice, Holly. Walk out with me quietly, or I carry you. Either way, you're leaving this room with me."
My heart hammers against my ribs. I’m low on options. My phone is dead. There is no back door to escape through. And I’m three floors up. I briefly consider the bathroom but quickly realize no lock is going to stop a man his size.
I'm out of options.
"You don’t need to do this," I say. "I didn't see anything. I don't know anything. I'm nobody."
Something flickers in his eyes. "No. You're not nobody."
The way he says it sounds almost meaningful. But before I can process that thought, he moves.
And so I run.
It's a stupid and futile attempt, but my instinct takes over. I lunge for the door, my fingers just grazing the handle before his arm wraps around my waist and yanks me back against his body.