Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Her sarcastic laugh could be easily heard through the thin door. “Sure!”
“Sloane. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m only here to help.”
When the silence grew, he counted the seconds off in his head. Right before he got to twenty, he heard, “You know my name and where I live. That sounds more like a stalker and not a knight in shining armor here to help.”
“I understand that me showing up here would seem suspicious, but I really am here to help.”
The door opened as far as the security chain allowed.
Like that piece of shit chain would keep out a bad guy. One well-placed kick would break that false sense of security free from the door frame.
With a furrowed brow, she peered through the gap. “Help me with what? If you found my sister, you should’ve texted me, not hunted me down. Just tell me where she is.”
“I didn’t find your sister. However, I’m not going to get into why I’m here while I stand outside and freeze.”
The creases in her forehead deepened. “Your speech is different.”
He ignored that since that was a conversation they needed to have inside. “If someone means to do you harm, that chain isn’t going to keep anyone out.”
“You’re not wearing your vest and you’re talking like a normal person.”
He figured it was best to leave his cut in the borrowed Ford Ranger since he was approaching her as Decker, not Hatchet. Plus, wearing Demons colors tended to catch a lot of attention. “I can explain if you’ll let me. But I won’t do it while standing out here where anyone can hear me.”
“Then whisper.”
Decker sucked on his teeth. “I’m not going to fucking whisper.”
“Then I don’t want to hear what you have to say. I’m not letting a man who belongs to a dangerous gang into my room. I find it insulting that you think I’m stupid enough to do so. Goodbye.” The door slammed shut.
His chin jerked back and he stared at the closed door. What the actual fuck. “Sloane!”
To add insult to injury, the deadbolt clicked next. At least the place had a deadbolt. Hopefully it was better than that damn chain.
He should leave. Just let this go. He was a damn fool to be here. To be standing outside her door trying to convince her to accept his help. He already had enough on his plate. He didn’t need to add her and her sister’s problems to it.
But the verdict was in, he was a goddamn fool.
With a muttered, “Fuck,” he fished his wallet out of his back pocket. And not the one holding his money and the fake driver’s license that declared him Jacob Owens, his assigned undercover identity.
After a quick check to make sure no one else was out and about to witness what he would do next, he leaned close to the door and rapped on it with his knuckle. “Sloane, look through your peephole.”
He held his badge up and in front of it.
After a long pause, he finally heard, “That could be fake.”
He sighed softly. “You’re right, it could be. Look again.” He shifted the wallet over so she could see his federal task force ID next.
Again, he tried to patiently wait through her silence.
“Your badge indicates you’re a state trooper.”
“Corporal, actually,” he corrected.
“But your ID says you’re a federal agent, Owen Decker.”
“Federal task force officer,” he clarified, tucking his wallet back into his pocket.
“They don’t match.”
“There’s a reason for that. If you want to see it, I can show you my PSP ID, too.”
“They all could be fake and only a ploy for me to let you in.”
“They’re not fake, I promise you that. You can call my sergeant if you want to confirm who I am.” There was no way he was giving her Crew’s number since the task force leader had no idea that he was there. Not to mention, he was a dick who looked for any excuse to ride his ass. “The truth is, if I really wanted to get in without your consent, I could easily kick down this door.”
That was met with more silence.
“How do you think I found you, Sloane Everly Parrish? You’re five-foot-three. You have blue eyes. Your driver’s license states you have blonde hair even though it’s more of a strawberry blonde. You’re also required to wear corrective lenses to operate a vehicle.”
“You probably work at PennDOT.”
“You have a clean record. Your sister Sadie Elise Parrish has been arrested fourteen times over the past five years. Your parents are Samuel and Debra Parrish. They live at 145 Water Street in Greensburg. Until recently, you used to live at 45 Bell Drive, unit 12, in Regent Square Commons.” After researching her upscale condo complex, he wondered how she ended up in this dump. “Do I need to go on? If you haven’t figured it out yet, I have access to records that bikers don’t have.”