Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
We step inside, and Eve shuts and locks the door. The house is large, with seven bedrooms and even more bathrooms. Eve looks around with her hands on her hips.
“Whose is this?”
“Drex’s,” I tell her.
“Why the hell didn’t I know about it?”
I shrug, carrying Maya to a bedroom I’ve only ever seen once.
“No one but me knew about this property. Drex bought this years ago, but kept it a secret. He only came out here when he needed a break from all things Death Dealer. And he thought if his sister ever needed a place to lie low, he’d put her here until he could figure out her next move.”
Eve grows quiet, and I turn to see her eyes fixed on Maya in my arms. “Let me know if you need any help,” Eve finally says, offering me a small, tight smile.
I nod before ducking into the bedroom, and I gently place Maya on her feet. She sways, but leans against the wall, her eyes on me.
Brushing her hair away from her face, I take inventory. Her face is smudged with ash, and her clothes are just as dirty. I’m just glad the blast was contained enough to not hit the other end of the warehouse. I’m sure those weren’t Herrin’s intentions, but the hangar is tougher than it looks, and it took the brunt of the hit.
“I’m okay,” she finally says, though she has to clear her throat afterwards.
Moving away from her, I clench and unclench my fists, feeling fucking useless as I move into the bathroom and turn the water on for the tub.
As it fills up, I move back into the bedroom. She’s already pulling her clothes off without having to be asked, and I shut the door to the room, giving us privacy.
As soon as she’s bare, she moves into the bathroom, eyes on the tub.
I rifle through the damn sink cabinet, hoping the woman who tends to this house for Drex has left some supplies. All I find is a bottle of shampoo and conditioner, so I dump a big glob of the shampoo into the water, letting the faucet make a few bubbles with it.
“It’s clean,” I grumble. “Drex has a housekeeper who comes once a week and cleans everything to keep the dust away. He hasn’t been out here in over a year, but he keeps her on payroll, even through this rough patch we had.”
Maya gives me a small smile as she steps in.
As she gets seated and leans her head back over the edge, her eyes close. I use the opportunity to run my eyes over the small, barely-there cuts on her arms and legs from where she likely crawled over the glass, trying to make it to the door.
Her blood looks like flakes of paint on the small cuts, but it’s still enough to send the anger simmering close to the surface.
“I don’t know what happened,” she finally says quietly. “I just froze. Colleen started trying to shake me out of it, and I screamed. As soon as she gave me space, I froze again.”
I crouch next to the tub, putting my hand in the water and testing the temperature, even though she’s not complaining.
“I had a gun in my hand, just knowing they were going to come in. I’m glad they didn’t. After that blast, I just…froze. I’ve never had that happen,” she goes on, her voice barely carrying over the steady stream of the water that’s filling the tub.
Spotting a pack of sponges, I open it and pull one out, busying myself and trying to rein in my rage. She could have been fucking killed.
“I should have checked my phone sooner.” The words come out gruff, my own voice strained right now.
It’s like I can’t take my eyes off her, worried if I do, she suddenly won’t be here anymore. It’s a fucked up feeling I’ve never experienced before.
“I’m glad you checked it at all,” she says on a sigh, the tension leaving her body little by little.
I drench the sponge, using the shampoo to soap it up, and start washing some of the ash off her neck.
We stay silent after that. Her eyes remain closed as I sponge off the rest of her body, turning off the water when it’s high enough.
She leans up, her back to me, and I take the opportunity to wash it too.
“You could climb in with me,” she says softly.
If I got in there with her, I’d fuck her. Not because I’m turned on, but because I would need physical reassurance that she’s really safe and not an illusion. Son of a bitch, what’s wrong with me?
“I’ll stick to the outside of the tub,” I say under my breath.
She catches my hand, her eyes on mine. She’s been in there for so long now that her fingers are pruning and the water is getting chilly.