Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43456 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 217(@200wpm)___ 174(@250wpm)___ 145(@300wpm)
He exhaled slowly through his nose. “You need to be careful, little dove. Just in case. If anything else feels off, call me.”
His tone made it less of a suggestion and more of a directive.
“I don’t have your number.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. “Give me yours.”
I rattled off my digits before I could think twice, and my cell buzzed in my hand a moment later. Glancing at my screen, I saw the text he sent.
Unknown number
Keegan.
“Now you have mine.”
I saved his contact information and tried not to read more into it than I should.
“Why did you believe me so easily?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“I’ve seen what happens when money and ego mix,” he explained. “Greed makes people sloppy. Pride makes them dangerous. When reputations are on the line, the truth isn’t always the priority.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“I thought Aegis was solid,” he continued. “I wouldn’t have agreed to fly for them otherwise. But mismatched flight logs tied to a fatal crash aren’t something I can ignore.”
The implication settled heavily between us, making me shiver.
“You don’t need to worry, though.” He dipped his head lower, his voice rough as he murmured, “You don’t have to handle this alone.”
There was no missing how much he meant his promise. Some of my tension loosened at knowing a man like Keegan had my back. “Thank you.”
He brushed my gratitude aside with a shake of his head, his gaze dropping to the files in my hand. “You need to get back to work?”
“Yeah, unfortunately,” I muttered.
He tapped the top of my phone. “Text me. Let me know you’re doing okay.”
“Okay,” I whispered before turning away to walk back to the office.
I did as he asked and sent a few texts, including one as I left just to say that I planned to stop at the grocery store on my way home. His replies weren’t wordy, but it felt nice to share my day with someone. Even though I refused to admit how much it mattered that it was Keegan.
The store had been packed when I arrived, but the lot was only half full by the time I headed back to my car. I juggled my bags to dig in my pocket for my key fob as I started across the row.
An engine revved, and I glanced up automatically. The car was already moving toward me, but instead of slowing as most drivers would, it accelerated.
I stumbled backward, the grocery bags slipping from my grip. One of the paper bags tore open, and a Styrofoam carton of eggs hit the pavement.
The car didn’t brake or swerve away from me.
I jumped back again, my back pressing against the metal bar of the cart return. Thank goodness my shoe collection was mostly flats because I wouldn’t have moved so quickly in heels. The bumper passed close enough that I felt the rush of air against my legs. If I’d hesitated for even a second, they would’ve hit me.
The driver didn’t seem worried about the close call. They just tore down the aisle without slowing, tires squealing as they made a hard right out of the aisle.
I took a steadying breath and bent to pick up my groceries, my hands shaking hard enough that I almost dropped the eggs again before managing to shove the carton back into the torn bag.
When I climbed into my car, my system was still flooded with adrenaline.
I told myself to breathe. To calm down. But there was only one thing I wanted.
Grabbing my phone, I tapped his name in my favorites.
The line rang once before Keegan picked up. “Linden.”
I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding my breath until it left me in a rush. “I’m sorry. It was probably nothing. A car sped up instead of slowing down. It didn’t hit me, just freaked me out. And probably broke all of my eggs.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Still in the parking lot at the grocery store.” I looked around, breathing a little easier when I didn’t see anyone nearby. “In my car now, with the doors locked.”
“Good. I’m coming to you.”
I bit my bottom lip before whispering, “Could you meet me at my apartment instead? I don’t want to be here anymore.”
“Only if you’re okay to drive there.”
His concern steadied me probably more than it should have. “It’s only a mile down the street.”
“Okay. Text me the address, and I’ll be right behind you.”
The line went quiet, and I pulled up our thread to send him my address. Then I started the engine and gripped the steering wheel until my hands stopped shaking.
I hit every red light between the grocery store and my apartment.
By the time I pulled into my complex, at least my pulse had settled. I parked in my usual spot and popped the trunk. I circled to the back and grabbed the torn paper bag first, already knowing what I’d find. When I peeled it open, my nose scrunched.