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)
Good.
He thought I was alone.
So long as the other guy didn’t go into Liam’s room, everything was under control.
“You kept it in your shop.”
“I didn’t know it was there at the time, idiot,” I snapped, my fear making me angry. “Once I knew what I had, I made sure I got it safe.”
I could take them to Zeno.
At least there, it would be two of us against two of them. And as skinny and calm as Zeno came off, I knew that at their core, every one of these Costa men was incredibly lethal.
These guys would underestimate Zeno.
That would be a fatal decision.
So as much as I hated the idea of bringing trouble to his door, it was a better option than letting it stay here, putting an innocent kid in danger.
“Where is it then, if it’s not here?” he asked, making a grab for my neck again. But I was a little faster this time, taking a step back and to the side, putting the couch between us.
The other guy was behind me somewhere. But I was focusing on the one I was relatively sure had killed Robin. He was the real threat.
“Not here. With a hacker friend,” I told him. “He’s working on breaking the password.”
The killer’s gaze cut across the apartment to the other guy, something silently passing between them.
“Where?”
“Not far. Ten-minute walk, maybe.”
It was longer.
But I could deal with their anger later. Outside of the apartment. Away from Liam.
The men shared another look, the other one coming closer.
“And we’re just supposed to trust you?”
“I don’t even know what’s on the stupid flash drive.” That had to land as honest. It was. What the hell was worth dying over? “It’s been more trouble than it’s worth.”
Another shared look.
I was so distracted by it that I didn’t see it coming when the killer grabbed the arm of the couch and shoved it forward with all his strength, using it to knock me into and pin me to the wall.
The leg of the couch caught my foot, sending white-hot pain shooting up the ankle that had just started to feel better.
My breath caught, sucking back the cry before it escaped me.
“She’s agreeing to help,” the other guy said, sounding frustrated at the whole situation. But not frustrated enough to step in. Had he just stood aside and watched this guy strangle the life out of Robin too?
It took a lot longer than the movies let you think to kill someone that way.
Sure, the fighting and wide-eyed panic of a person realizing they are about to die could be over in just a few seconds; it could take up to five minutes to cause death.
To be able to do that to someone is horrific.
To stand by and watch was just as cold-blooded.
There was no safety to be found in the other guy.
But I could appreciate him trying to be rational.
“Or she’s walking us into a trap. She’s not working alone. You saw those guys at the pawnshop.”
Shit.
“My brothers?” I improvised.
Nothing about these guys suggested they were some criminal geniuses. If they didn’t know I left quickly from the shop and went right to Zenos, if they didn’t know who Zeno was—or any of the other guys for that matter—then they weren’t really doing any kind of research. That worked in my favor.
I saw the way the guys’ eyes flickered, unsure.
“Yeah, sorry, but if my brothers found out I was attacked in my own store, they’re going to show up and puff out their chests. That’s what brothers do.”
In theory.
“And why aren’t they here now?”
“Because they have their own lives?”
“Why are you here?” the killer, clearly the smarter of the two, asked.
“On my other brother’s couch? Because someone broke into my apartment.” I rolled my eyes for good measure.
“Where is he then?”
Oh, so they really weren’t watching.
True, I almost never left the apartment, let alone with the kids. And I guess maybe Christopher didn’t that often either. It was usually Liam taking Char to and from school. Maybe they’d only caught me with Christopher.
“The hospital,” I said, shrugging. “He’s got the flu.”
The killer hopped up on the couch, walking over the cushions to loom over me, his cold blue gaze holding mine as his hand reached out.
It didn’t close around my throat this time, though. He grabbed my chin and jaw, squeezing so hard I was sure my bones were crumbling to dust.
“If you’re fucking lying to me, I swear to God, I will choke you little by little,” he told me. “I will watch you fade just enough, then let you come back, over and over and over. Until you’re begging to die.”
I was so distracted by the threat, by the promise in his eyes, by the horror of thinking that was the fate Robin had suffered, that I couldn’t see past it.