Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 63055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63055 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I hold her tighter. I can’t believe she’s been going through this shit alone.
“So I’m just trying to come up with anything I can give him. At first I sold off the few possessions I had that were worth anything—diamond earrings my dad gave me for my sixteenth. My mom’s wedding ring. And then I decided stealing cars would be the easiest way to get money fast. But time’s running out, and I’ve lost the last two cars.” She chokes up again.
I curse because I don’t know how we can come up with that kind of cash so fast.
“What happens if you go to the cops?”
“They’ll kill my aunt and cousin. Or sell them to sick assholes to use as fuck dolls.”
These fucking bastards. “Well... we’ll figure it out.”
“We? No, there’s no we. Bo, I didn’t tell you about this for a reason. I don’t want you involved. They threaten anyone I’m close to. It’s why I can’t date. It’s not safe.”
I take her hand and push it down from my chest to the place the bullet went into me a few hours ago. “Feel that, Legs? That’s what bullets do to me. Not much. I’m not afraid of them. I’m not going to let them push you around like this.”
Despite my reassurances, Sloane’s body has grown more and more tense, and now I detect a slight tremble in her limbs.
Fuck this. My wolf snarls inside, furious that anything would make Sloane shake with fear.
I squeeze her tight. “It’s okay. We’ll figure something out. I promise.”
“I don’t want your promise, Bo. This isn’t your fight.”
“It’s not yours, either! That’s the part that doesn’t make sense. I really don’t get why they’re leaning on you. Do they really think a high school kid can generate that much cash? I mean, if the sex slave thing is real, why wouldn’t they just do that from the start?”
“It’s because they seem to think I have the money stashed somewhere. Which, of course, I don’t. The FBI seized everything when they raided the house. All I took to Arizona was the stuff in my room—my clothes and personal effects. They took my car, my dad’s car, the house, all his bank accounts—everything.”
“When does your time run out?”
“I don’t know. Soon—any day now.”
“All right. We’ll figure something out.”
Sloane blinks back tears as she wraps her arms around my neck and squeezes too hard. Her breath makes her belly shudder against me. “Thanks,” is all she manages to say.
“It’s okay, beautiful. I promise. It’s going to be okay,” I say, even though I don’t know how to make my words true. I hold her back tight and gently rock her until eventually she gets tired and lies down.
I turn out the light and listen to the sound of her breath as she falls into a fitful sleep.
Think, Bo, think. There has to be a way out of this for Sloane.
I gave her my word we’ll figure it out, and that’s what I’m going to do.
Chapter 12
Sloane
I wake up sore and scared and really fucking grateful for the guy beside me.
He wants to be my knight.
I want to let him.
I really want to let him.
But I just can’t.
There’s no way I’m going to allow him to put his life at risk for me.
I care about him too much.
My mom might lose both her sons. Over me. I can’t have that.
The sooner I can get Bo to bring me back to Cave Hills and we go our separate ways, the better.
Or… maybe I should go jack another car right now. At least I wouldn’t show up to the meet empty-handed. They said they wouldn’t accept a stolen car, but you never know. They have to have their own contacts for fencing that kind of thing. At least they’d know I was putting in my good faith effort.
I slip out of bed.
And am immediately greeted by the low rumble of Bo’s voice. “You hungry?”
Dammit. He probably has super sensitive hearing or requires zero sleep. I wish I could grill him about the wolf thing, but he made it off-limits.
My stomach rumbles in answer to his question. “Yeah.”
“I’m starving. Let’s go find some breakfast.” He gets up and pulls on jeans, foregoing the ripped boxer briefs.
“What are you going to do for a shirt?” I ask, pulling on my own jeans.
“Fuck. I don’t know. Maybe there’s something here.” He opens the closet doors, but other than extra pillows and blankets, they’re bare.
A knock sounds at the door, and it opens before Bo gets there. Jared and two other big guys come through the door. All three are covered in tattoos and leather, looking like a badass biker gang.
I wonder if all biker gangs are actually comprised of werewolves?
The smaller of the three—although small probably isn’t a word anyone ever uses to describe him—carries a box of Krispy Kreme donuts and a gallon of milk. “You kids hungry?”