Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57028 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“Listen to those sirens, Evie. Those idiots aren’t going to hang around. Somebody called the cops… even if you didn’t want me to.”
She flinches, rubbing her hands anxiously up and down her legs. She’s probably thinking of a way to persuade me to let her go. Looking anxious and caged, she seems desperate to escape. But I need to focus on practical concerns, none of which have anything to do with letting her go.
Number one: keep this woman safe. Number two: get more information.
“Why would a two-bit biker gang be interested in you, and why don’t you want me to call the cops?”
She groans. “Give me your cell. I need to warn Tash.”
“Give me your friend’s name and I’ll ensure she’s safe.”
“The Vultures aren’t a ‘two-bit gang’, Dom. That knife wasn’t for show.”
“And my gun was?”
“A CEO with a pistol is no match for them. You might’ve got the better of Mason because he was unprepared, but he won’t be next time. And even if you can hire some security agency or whatever, you’ll have to play by the rules. The Vultures won’t.”
“You’re assuming a lot,” I snarl. “You don’t know who or what I am.”
“You’re not just a CEO?”
“I’m the one asking questions here.”
“Just take me to Glendale. I’ll figure out what to do.”
“I’m not putting you in a position to get hurt.”
She reaches for the door, attempting to open it. But it won’t work.
“I’m not going to let you leap out of my car while it’s moving.”
“Where are we going?” she demands.
“While I figure out what’s going on, I’m taking you to my estate in Topanga Canyon.”
She gasps. “What? Why?”
“Because you won’t let me call the cops, and that asshole looked like he was ready to use that knife.”
“But—No, I can’t—I won’t be a prisoner. No freaking way.”
Guilt tugs at me. She doesn’t want to be a prisoner. I don’t want to be a jailer, but I can’t just let her go. If I did that and The Vultures got their hands on her… and I saw her on the news. Evie Davis, bright-eyed and beautiful, killed by those biker bastards, I wouldn’t forgive myself.
I glance at her, attempting to make my expression safe and understanding… if that’s possible. “Then tell me what’s going on. Why are they after you? Why can’t I call the cops?”
She groans, running her hands through her hair. Her braid is coming loose, making her look wild and somehow more attractive. “It’s none of your business.”
“If making it my business keeps you alive, Evie, I’m making it my damn business.”
“Wait, a second…” She looks at me with fresh accusation in her gorgeous eyes. “What were you even doing at my apartment?”
“Right place, wrong time,” I grunt.
“What? That doesn’t even make sense. Are you saying it was a coincidence?”
“If you give me your friend’s name, you don’t need to worry about her.”
“You’re changing the subject.”
“You want answers? Join the club.”
She huffs again. “Tasha Lin.”
I take out my cellphone. “Compose text, Rafe Torress: Rafe, I need a favor. Put a protection detail on Tasha Lin of Apartment 3B, 1446 Laveta Terrace, Echo Park. She works in Glendale. Send text.”
“Who’s Rafe Torress?”
An old friend, a man in a world I left behind a long time ago.
Ignoring her question, I say, “Why are The Vultures after you?”
She folds her arms, squashing those tempting tits together. I try to focus on the road.
I wonder if she has any idea how attractive she is. In the interview, despite my staring at her captivating perfection, she did not show that she did. It was like she was completely unaware of it, which seems insane to me. How has somebody like her gone through her life without men fighting each other for her attention?
“You can keep asking, but you’re not going to get any answers.”
After a long pause, I snap, “I was at your apartment because you mentioned the Vultures and you sounded terrified, Evie. I could tell you didn’t mean to mention them, but when you did, you looked like you were going to break down. I thought you were in trouble–and I was right.”
She says nothing for a long time, then whispers, “Is this the part where I reveal all my secrets because you’ve given me the most basic explanation?”
I grind my teeth. “Has anybody ever told you how annoying you can be?”
“If you won’t let me go, I’m happy to drive in silence.”
“Fine by me,” I grunt.
Forty minutes later, we’re driving through the isolation of Topanga Canyon. My estate comes into view beneath us as we turn on a small hill. From this rise, I see it all: my estate stretched across the canyon like it belongs here. The glass and stone main house catches the sun, surrounded by terraced gardens, with an infinity pool spilling into the view. Winding paths cut through olive trees and wild sage. It’s quiet, private, exactly how I like it.