Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76934 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Then I did something that my sister said she did every single time the kids were sick.
I sat up and worried.
Even after Christopher texted to say she was taken back pretty quickly and was on an IV for fluids and was suffering through some cooling blankets.
At some point, the update was that the meds and fluids had her down under one hundred degrees, and they were just waiting for discharge papers.
I let myself drift off on the couch then, hoping that Char would come home and go right to sleep so we could both catch a few hours before the day really started.
All that hope vanished when the door flung open, cracking against the wall.
Then hands were grabbing me.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Alara
A scream caught in my throat, but the hand was over my mouth before more than a shocked gasp could escape me.
The electric rush of adrenaline surged through me as I clawed at his arm, fingers digging into exposed skin hard enough for blood to bead to the surface.
“Fuck,” he hissed, yanking away instinctively.
I sucked in a breath to scream before I remembered.
Liam.
Liam was still in the apartment.
Sleeping.
Helpless.
I couldn’t scream.
The last thing I wanted was to draw him out, bring attention to him, let them use him against me. I’d never forgive myself if they hurt him to get what they wanted out of me.
What other choices did I have?
The kitchen had knives. Ones I watched Christopher meticulously sharpen nearly every time he used them. There was also a hefty cast-iron skillet that lived inside the oven when it wasn’t in use.
And, yes, there was a gun.
It was stashed in a box on the top shelf in the hallway, too high for Charlotte to reach even if she was snooping around.
He wanted it out of reach, but not locked up.
“What good is a gun if you can’t get to it a pinch when you need it?”
I’d agreed with the logic at the time.
And I was even more on board now.
Did going for that gun mean getting closer to Liam’s room and risking him hearing something, though? Yes.
I could make a run for the door. Get down the hallway. Then let out a scream and pray someone heard. And if they heard, they decided to do something. And knowing what I knew about a lot of people in the city, that was maybe hoping for too much. Maybe they’d call the cops to report it. And maybe the cops would come out. Likely not in a hurry.
There were too many maybes with the plan to run.
But it was the safest option for Liam.
“Where is it?” the man with the bloody scrapes down his arm demanded from behind the navy blue bandana tied across his face.
The other guy was already walking around, yanking open drawers, digging through the contents. Making a racket.
“It’s not here,” I snarled.
“Bullshit. Where is it?”
His hand shot out so fast it blurred around the edges, his meaty palm closing around my throat, immediately cutting off my airway.
It was surprising how quickly I went from shock to panic to breathlessness.
My face felt fuzzy. My heart started to pound slower, but much harder, each beat like a punch against my ribcage.
And all I could do was think of Robin.
Was it like this with her?
Woken out of a dead sleep?
A hand around her throat?
A man demanding the location of something she knew she had to protect?
I wasn’t sure I would be as brave as she was. Holding out to the last moment.
If it was in the apartment, to save Liam, I might have told them. Let them take it. Then call in the cavalry; let the mob do what it did best.
Then again, I had no idea what was on that drive.
The last I heard, Zeno was still working on it. He was only able to use a few passwords every couple of hours, or he ran the risk of permanently locking it.
“She can’t answer if she can’t talk,” the other guy said.
But my attacker just squeezed harder.
One second.
Two.
I watched the way his eyes narrowed, like he was putting a lot of his strength into it. Like he was enjoying this.
On the third second, his hand opened, leaving me to gasp for air—big, violent gulps that took all my focus for a terrifying few moments as my body didn’t quite register that it was okay, that I could breathe, that there was enough oxygen.
If the strangulation had made my heartbeat slow and hard, breathing again made it go frantic—fluttering, pounding, skipping around. I felt like it was both in my chest and lodged at the back of my throat at once.
“Where is it?”
“It’s,” I gasped, “not here.” I took a step back as he took one forward. “I wouldn’t keep it here. I’m not stupid.”
The venom in my voice gave him pause.
“Stupid enough to be here all alone when you know what we do to people who get in the way of what we want.”