Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Saint chuckles. “Unlike the floor. We’ll have to be quick with the cleanup,” he says, pulling off the backpack with all the supplies we need.
I shake my head, not looking forward to it, so I stall. “I kind of like that Otto‘s afraid. That he’s hiding somewhere. Even if it means finding him will be more difficult.”
Saint rubs my back. “You can just sit back for now. I think you need a moment after your first kill. And as for Otto… we will get to him sooner or later,” he says, pulling out a plastic sheet.
I smirk, weighing the bloodied knife in my hand. “Aren’t you worried? Only three days until Christmas, and we don’t know where he is. Tick-tock.”
He catches my gaze for the longest moment. “Then it’s a good thing Brown’s off Santa’s list,” he says grimly.
Chapter 24
Saint
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
It echoes in my head over and over, always in the same cheerful tone, and while I’m trying to focus on the task at hand, I’m at a loss where to start, which is ridiculous, since I’ve been cleaning up after myself for over a decade now. And now I’m struggling with indecision while the sticky red pool spreads farther over the tiles. Do I start with the body? The stairs, which surely bear traces of this fucker’s DNA? Should I soak up some of the blood first, to avoid getting it on my clothes?
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
Tick-tock.
But none of my worries are about the work.
My cortisol level rises because of the reality behind Rowan’s words.
He did an amazing job with Brown. Watching him felt like a pivotal moment. He even walked down the stairs with me despite being so nervous. But then he made the comment about the time remaining until my deadline, and now all I can think of is that he might not be joking.
Just because we’ve been having a good time for the past week doesn’t mean things between us are set in stone. The three days remaining until Christmas seemed like more than enough when I thought I knew where to find Otto Grass. But him hiding somewhere changes everything. Without time pressure, I always get my mark, it’s just a question of patience. But now I feel like I’m dealing with a time bomb.
The possibility of Rowan slipping out of my grasp makes me feel so frantic it’s cutting my brain into ribbons. Because what if he is only focused on taking his revenge and silently hopes that I can’t deliver it on time?
This thing between us feels so genuine, and right, and sweet, and it’s blurring the hard boundaries I usually uphold. I can’t imagine needing to give him up, and if I don’t keep my side of our bargain, it will give him a convenient excuse to leave me behind.
A part of me refuses to believe that he doesn’t care for me at all, but this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve convinced myself a relationship was something more than it actually was.
Three years ago, I fell for a guy I was hooking up with, took his friendliness as a sign of something more, and abducted him because he claimed to never have the time for his dream vacation. I’m lucky he didn’t press charges, because I didn’t have the heart to intimidate him once he started freaking out. And I would have needed to.
It’s not as though I can ask Rowan if he’s pretending to have feelings for me. If he is, he’ll just continue lying. What I need to do is make sure we finish his revenge quest, so I can lock him in.
Which doesn’t sound great, but if he really does enjoy my company, he won’t mind, and if he doesn’t… he will in time.
Or I’m just paranoid and losing my mind.
Should I even try to pull him into a cold arrangement if he doesn’t actually want me? Only for him to resent me for years to come?
Those are questions for future me.
Rowan stares at Brown’s body with a small frown. “What does it even mean that Otto ‘went underground’? If you were a guy like him, worried about being hunted, where would you hide? Then again, you’re smart and he’s not.”
Genuine compliment or flattery? I don’t know anymore because all I hear is him saying “tick-tock” and it’s bending my mind into a pretzel.
“We’ll just have to get to it right away, because once he finds out this fucker’s gone too, he’ll be certain there’s someone after him,” I say and once again stare at the fresh corpse.
Ugh. At least it’s not even two in the morning yet. We have time, though I’d rather not deal with dried blood. That stuff can be so hard to remove.
“He won’t find out for quite a while. Oh!” Rowan raises his hands. “What if ‘underground’ means he’s living underground here?”