Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
“What is—”
“A sniper. At least a hundred yards out.”
Diego lets out a low whistle, one that tells us to stay down. No doubt he’s scanning the trees for the shooter.
“Why is someone shooting at us? I thought it was the paps!” She clings to me. “What is going on?”
“I don’t know, but I think you may have had a tail this entire time.” I think back to the shadow in the woods. “No, not a tail. They were waiting for you on that road. Someone snitched about your plans to drive to Frozen Falls. Is this Kingston guy a real threat?” I need to get a view of what we’re facing.
She pales. “He’s obsessed with Aurora. Not in a cute ‘do anything for her’ way. It’s more of a ‘I want to own her body and soul’ way.”
It occurs to me that I want my sweet Clover body and soul, too, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to make that point.
Another slug hits the gate, and the crack of the shot sounds soon after. He’s moving closer. Fuck.
I wait for Diego to take his shot, but it never comes. Whoever is stalking toward us is a professional. Diego is a stone-cold killer with a sniper. If he had a shot, he’d take it.
I get to my knees and pull her up with me. “Is he the type that thinks if he can't have her, no one can?”
She swallows hard. “Yes.”
The sort who’d hire an assassin to take her out. “Shit.” I point to the small door in the side of the garage. “We’re going there. Can’t risk heading back up the slope.”
“Okay.” She gives me a nod. Brave girl.
“I’ll protect you. Always.” I kiss her forehead, take her hand, and lead her toward the bottom of the compound.
That’s when I hear something metallic clanging behind us. A grappling hook embeds on the lodge’s stone wall. They’re coming. I don’t have time to stash Clover.
I pull her to a narrow pine and press her back to it so she’s facing the lodge. “Don’t move.”
“Wha—”
I’m darting toward the wall before I hear the rest of her question. If I can make it in time—and I do. . . I press my back against the wall a few feet away from where the grappling hook jiggles overhead. Diego has no shot. The lower roof of the lounge is blocking his view. The intruder seems to know that. He’s studied the layout.
Slowly, I pull my knife from my belt. I don’t look at Clover. I can’t.
A black boot appears at the top of the wall, and then in a feline move, the assassin throws himself over. He lands on his feet, his body crouching and absorbing the impact like I’ve done a million times over. He may even be Brotherhood.
But that doesn’t matter. All he’s about to be is dead. I step toward him.
He whirls, his eyes blacked and beneath a ski mask. With a hard lunge, he swings his own knife at me, barely missing as I stumble back.
I should've been able to slit his throat without a sound. Maybe I’m getting rusty in retirement.
“Give me the girl, and you can live.” He circles me.
I circle him right back. “That’s a fine offer.” I turn my wrist, making sure I’m loose enough for a knife fight. “But I have a better one. You die right here, right now, and I feed your corpse to the wolves.”
“Wrong choice.” He darts toward me, his knife flashing as he reaches with his other hand.
I spin away from his attack, then spin right back to knock the pistol from his hand. It disappears in a tuft of snow as he slices my arm with a deep cut.
Pushing back, I almost go sprawling from the ice beneath the snow, but I keep my feet. Barely. He takes advantage, throwing his weight against me and swinging in a perfect arc for my throat.
“Charles!” Clover screams.
He looks up, the distraction perfectly time. With the little balance I have left, I thrust my knife forward and twist it hard. The warmth spilling onto my hand tells me I’ve struck true.
The assassin staggers back, his gaze going to his midsection. He presses a hand to the wound, but it’s fatal. When he looks at me again, he knows it’s over.
Two shots sound, and he flies back and lands in the snow, bullet holes through his forehead and his heart.
“That’s my kill.” I turn and point at Diego as I wipe my bloodied hand on my pants. “And you know it.”
He shrugs from his perch on the roof just above me. “His heart was beating until I put a hole through it. So my kill.”
I glance up and see Aurora staring out the window, her hands to her face. She should look terrified. Instead, she beams at Diego like he’s a god.