Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47615 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 238(@200wpm)___ 190(@250wpm)___ 159(@300wpm)
My shoulders sagged a little. “I count exit routes,” I confessed. “Everywhere we go. First thing I do.” I met her eyes. “I check the locks. Three times, sometimes four.”
Her expression softened. “I’ve noticed.”
“You have?” I hadn’t been subtle, but I thought I’d hidden the worst of it from her.
She nodded. “You sleep facing the door. You position yourself between me and pretty much everyone.” She reached for my hand. “I thought it was really sweet. But not if you’re seriously worried. Have you talked to any of the others?”
My jaw clenched. She was right. The past three weeks had been too quiet. I had no doubt Rat Man had been hurt when he’d laid his bike over, but there hadn’t been a body found, no one with injuries consistent with a bike wreck. But I knew he was out there. Waiting.
“Something’s coming,” I said quietly. “I feel it. In here.” I tapped my chest. “Same way I felt it before an attack in the yard.”
Ada’s fingers tightened around my hand. “I believe you.”
“You’re not freaked out?” I asked, gesturing at the stockpile with my free hand. “Most women would be running for the hills if they found out their man was prepping for World War Three.”
She smiled, the corner of her mouth lifting in that way that always made my chest tight. “I’m not most women. And you’re not crazy.” She stepped closer, pressing herself against my chest. “The only thing that concerns me is that you didn’t tell me. We could’ve been preparing together.”
I wrapped my arms around her, inhaling the scent of her hair. “I didn’t want to scare you,” I admitted. “Didn’t want you to think you’d hooked up with some paranoid ex-con.”
“I know exactly who I’ve hooked up with,” she said against my chest. “A man whose instincts have kept him alive in places most people wouldn’t survive a day.” She pulled back to look at me. “If you think Rat Man is planning something, then he is. Simple as that.” I sighed, the tension I’d been carrying for weeks easing slightly.
Ada stepped back, surveying the room with new eyes. Not judging but assessing. “You should tell Knight. And Knuckles.”
“They know,” I said. “They’re watching too. I think maybe they have the same feeling but can’t find a reason to justify it either.”
Something fierce and protective surged in my chest as I looked at her. For the first time in my life, I had someone worth fighting for. Worth dying for. Worth killing for.
“Come on,” she said, tugging me toward the door. “You need to relax. I’ve got an idea.”
Taking my hand, Ada led me from the room. We left the apartment and headed down the hall.
“What’s your idea?” I asked.
“The pool,” she said, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “I think we both could use a swim.”
The idea of being in the water -- vulnerable -- made me anxious, but I wanted the experience badly. Besides, Rat Man was likely out for a while after that wreck. As Ada laced her fingers through mine, I pushed the feeling down. I’d follow her anywhere she wanted to lead me.
The indoor pool was in one of the center warehouses. Knuckles decided the club needed some luxury. Steam rose from the water’s surface, creating a hazy film across the dim space. Blue lights glowed beneath the surface, casting rippling patterns over the walls and making the whole place feel otherworldly.
“I told Hannah I wanted the pool this evening,” Ada said, dropping her towel on a plastic chair. “We’ve got it all to ourselves.”
She kicked off her shoes and peeled her T-shirt over her head in one fluid motion. The evening sunlight reflecting off the water played across her skin, turning her into something from a dream. She stood before me in just her bra and underwear, utterly unselfconscious.
“You coming in, or just gonna stand there all night?” She grinned, the teasing in her voice gentle.
“I’m not much of a swimmer,” I admitted, shifting my weight. “Been a while.”
She walked backward toward the pool’s edge, eyes locked on mine. “Good thing I am, then. It’s like riding a bike. Don’t worry. I’ll hold on to you and won’t let you go.”
She turned and dove in with barely a splash, her body cutting through the water like she belonged there. When she surfaced, she pushed her hair back from her face and floated on her back, the water lapping at her curves.
“The water’s perfect,” she called. “You can get me naked. But you have to come in here with me to do it.” She gave me a saucy grin.
I hesitated for another moment before stripping down to my boxers. The humidity wrapped around my skin like a damp blanket, making the numerous scars that mapped my torso seem to stand out in stark relief. Most men who’d done serious time had a story written on their skin in scar tissue. Mine looked like a Goddamn novel.