Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“Fuck,” one of them quietly swore.
Sebastian’s hawks were dead. Those beautiful, noble creatures had been heinously butchered. The birds had been skinned and beheaded. The evidence nailed to the posts the birds once used as a perch, attached to the wood with a large hunting knife. Behind me one of the men murmured something on the phone. His words lost their shape, the sound of my heart breaking blotting everything else out.
“Did you speak to him?”
“To Ben––they’re both on their way,” Bear distractedly answered while he inspected the crime scene. In the distance, I noticed some of Ben’s other men walking through the forest surrounding the estate, heavily armed and on a mission.
“Who would have done this?” Charlotte sobbed, her fingers resting over her mouth. Tears pooled on her bottom lids and caught on her lashes. She wiped at them furiously before they could run down her cheeks. I rubbed her arm in comfort.
“Whoever tried to kill Sebastian did,” I answered, the evidence plain to see. Like the bullet he took months ago, this was another warning.
Justin touched the carcass nailed to the post. “Cold.”
“Vera, I have to get you to cover. Let’s go.” Bears voice, however forceful, held a hint of fear in it as well. Bear and Justin’s extra large bodies moved into position, flanking Charlotte and me. They scanned the area furtively as we walked at a brisk pace until we reached the safety of the house.
Twenty minutes later I heard gravel firing off under the tires of the Mercedes 550––a trip that should’ve taken at least forty-five minutes. It skidded to a stop in front of the manor. The front doors banged open and loud voices followed.
I hurried out of the kitchen to find Sebastian eating up ground in my direction, Ben right behind him. His fiery gaze was pinned on the man standing next to me.
Poor, Bear. I knew what was coming.
“How the fuck could you have let this happen!”
More men I didn’t recognized poured in through the front door. At least twenty and all of them heavily armed. The air was suddenly thick with too much testosterone. It would’ve take garden shears to cut the tension.
Sebastian hadn’t yet spared me a glance. Instinctively, I reached out and placed a quelling hand on his forearm. He jerked, as if only now realizing that I stood a foot away. His eyes slid to me, traveled over every salient point on my face and body. His lips tightened, anger emanating from every fiber of his being. Standing this close, I’m surprised I didn’t get a third degree burn from it.
“We’ve been running perimeter checks every thirty minutes––” Justin said in his defense. He should’ve known better. The rest of his sentence was silenced by Sebastian’s withering glare.
“Vera was in the house,” Sebastian declared.
A sudden stillness fell upon the crowd of men. The low, gravelly murmur, the opaque, lifeless look in his eyes raised the menace to a whole other level. He didn’t look like the man I loved…I didn’t know this man.
“I know,” Bear murmured, guilt coloring his voice.
Justin interrupted with, “The men combed the property.” Sebastian’s glare slid over to him again. “Nothing yet––” Justin added, “and the birds were cold.”
But Sebastian had already stopped listening. He was half way down the hall, walking towards the back of the manor, taking longer steps than was wise and stressing the injured leg. Knowing where he was headed, I hurried after him––because in no way did I want him facing it alone.
Ten of us stood behind him without making a sound. He stared at the carnage for what seemed like forever. His broad back was stiff, his shoulders tight under the close cut of his handmade suit. He looked ready to shatter from all the tension. His fingers, poking through the chicken wire, closed around it so tightly I’m surprised the metal didn’t slice them open. A long tail feather was stuck on the fencing. I watched him pluck it off and twirl it between his thumb and index finger, wincing when I realized that the tip, soaked in blood, had stained his fingers.
I couldn’t see his expression. And yet I didn’t have to. His posture told me of the sorrow, the sense of loss, the pain––the common denominator of the human race. Ask people what love is and you’ll get a different answer every time. But pain…pain we can pretty much agree on.
I couldn’t stand idly by a second longer. Afraid to startle him, I walked up to him slowly, very gently encircled my arms around his waist, and placed my cheek on his back. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured, my voice cracking.
He lifted one arm high, giving me the chance to come around and burry my face and my anguish in his chest. Both his arms wrapped around me tightly, pulling me flush against him, offering me comfort when he needed it most. Sweet, selfless man. He kissed the top of my head, and in return I kissed the place over his heart.