Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 21838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21838 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 87(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
“You’re wrong. I don’t know you anymore. Who fucks their best friend’s daughter?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus, the way you spoke to her. I’m never going to get that filth out of my head.”
Shame tries to rear its head, until I remember the way she loved that filth. Needed it. “I’m sorry about the way you found out. But I’m not sorry for loving her. Or being with her. I’m going to treat her like a goddamn queen, Joe. I’ll protect her—”
“No. Enough.” He paces away, comes back. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it.” I think of the virgin blood she left on my cock, how she stroked my face after we came, how she ran to me in fear when I first arrived after the incident, leapt into my arms. Possessiveness sweeps into my chest. “She’s mine.”
“The hell she is.” He looks me up and down. “She can do better.”
“There’s no doubt of that. But no one is going to love her more. No one can keep her safe like I can. Somehow…she loves me, too. I can barely believe it, but like I said, she makes decisions for her own life.”
Joe sneers an insult and stalks toward the other side of the studio, planting his hands on his hips, facing away from me quietly. That break in the argument has me glancing back toward the door, willing Angelica to appear. I don’t like having her out of my sight. The person who has been terrorizing her is in police custody and I know her security team is outside. They’re under orders to follow her everywhere…
But there is a tingle climbing the back of my neck.
My instincts are telling me to go after her. Find her.
Not only to apologize. No. There is something wrong. I can feel it.
Without another word, I stride for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Joe shouts at my back. “We’re not done.”
“Angelica,” is all I can manage around the tightness in my throat.
With Joe’s footsteps pounding after me, I lunge into the hallway outside the studio, jogging to the end and throwing open the door leading outside. When I see her security team standing around smoking cigarettes, laughing with each other, my blood turns frigid.
“Where is Angelica?”
They trade puzzled looks with each other.
One of them coughs into his fist. “It sounded like she was with you.”
My temples begin to pound. “She left the studio five minutes ago. You didn’t see her?”
Their body language grows tense and they start sweeping the parking lot with their gazes. “No. She…”
“She what?”
That’s when I realize there are only five of them. There is one guard missing.
“Where is Miller?”
Oh God. No. Please don’t tell me I was wrong.
What if it wasn’t Taryn sending those messages to Angelica? What if it was Miller? He has the same level of access as the manager. How is this possible? I vetted every one of these guards myself. They’ve all served in the military, pristine backgrounds. Miller has a medal of honor, for Chrissakes.
“Last time I saw him, he was at his post outside the door of the studio.”
“No cars have come or gone since then.”
“Then they’re still here,” I rasp, my heart in my mouth. “Fan out, check every fucking car in this lot. Break windows if you have to.” I’m already running toward the back of the building. There’s a rush of sound in my ears, fear pumping in my veins. Vaguely, I register Joe running alongside of me, but all I can think about is getting to her. Eliminating the threat and getting her back into my arms. If something happens to her, I won’t let myself see tomorrow’s sunrise.
I’d rather die than live without her.
I round the corner at a dead sprint, the scene in front of me nearly rendering me insane. There is Angelica, cowering against the rear of the building, hands covering her face while a man I thought was trustworthy levels a handgun at her, his face red, eyes deranged. He’s ranting, slurring, his words running together, spittle projecting from his twisted mouth. I make out a few of the words, hear him berating her for not noticing him, not loving him, and I don’t hesitate.
“Angelica, get down!”
She hits the pavement in a crouch, hands over her head and my Glock is already out, aimed. I fire at a dead run, striking Miller in the throat. Another shot blasts the gun out of his hand and he goes down, grabbing at his throat and writhing on the ground, his voice reduced to a gurgle.
“Keep him down,” I growl at Joe, relieved when he doesn’t hesitate, kneeling on the mad man’s back and securing his hands behind him. Footsteps behind me signal the arrival of Angelica’s security team and I bark at them to call the police. And then all I can do is open my arms because Angelica is up and running toward me, tears streaming down her beautiful face.