Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 110664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“What’s this?” Ethan asked as he opened the paper. There were four names and phone numbers scrawled on it in Marcus’s beautiful handwriting.
“I wasn’t sure if Janice gave it to you, but this is my cell phone number, as well as the numbers for all three of my brothers.”
Ethan smirked up at Marcus. “Rafe isn’t going to start sending me interesting texts, is he?”
“I will strangle him with my bare hands if he does,” Marcus growled and gave a quick shake of his head. “No, this is for emergencies. If you are ever out and see either Meryl or Cain, I want you to call me immediately. If you can’t reach me, call my brothers. Keep calling all of us until you reach someone.”
“Okay.”
“Then I want you to stay in an area surrounded by people until we can reach you.”
“But what if it’s during the day?”
Marcus gave him a weak smile. “We’ll figure something out. I promise. You will be safe.”
The promise warmed him. Ethan walked Marcus to the elevator and ended up riding it to the lobby, even though they didn’t speak again. He didn’t want to say good-bye to Marcus, not when he could see the worry weighing so heavily on his shoulders. The truth was that he agreed with Marcus’s original assessment—there was no reason for Meryl to come after him. He was just an employee to Marcus. A lowly assistant.
But then, it felt like things had changed since lunch and that silly picture. It was the touch of Marcus’s hand and the look in his eyes when he was standing in the hall. He couldn’t believe that he meant nothing to Marcus. It wasn’t just that Marcus was a good, honorable person. He cared.
The elevator dinged as it reached his floor again. Ethan stepped out and stopped.
Carl was waiting for him in his apartment. Marcus cared about him…and Ethan was plotting with a dangerous group to destroy Marcus and his entire family.
This was wrong. All of it was so fucking wrong, but he didn’t know what to do. He had no proof Marcus was a vampire. Well, no really solid proof.
He definitely had no evidence he had anything to do with the murder of his family. If Marcus and his family truly were innocent, he wasn’t going to do a damn thing to them. He wasn’t going to let Carl and the League hurt the Variks.
But would Carl let him walk away from the Human Protecting Humans League? Just pretend that none of it happened?
Fuck. He needed to figure things out. Find a way to come clean to Marcus without convincing the man that he’d lost his mind. And he had to figure out the best way to get free of Carl and the League.
Chapter Nine
Something was ringing.
An alarm?
No. Too early.
Ethan scrubbed his hand across his eyes and rolled over in the bed. He blinked at the clock that showed in angry red numbers that it was after three in the morning. As his brain crept toward full consciousness, he realized that his phone was ringing.
Snatching it off the charger, Ethan sat up, glanced at the screen to confirm that it was Marcus calling him, and answered it.
“Marcus?” Ethan said, his voice rough and gravelly with sleep.
“I need you to run an errand as quickly as possible,” Marcus replied. “Do you have a pen and paper handy?”
“Umm…just a sec.” Throwing off the covers, Ethan jumped out of the bed, the phone still pressed to his ear as he tripped over a pair of shoes as he crossed the room. He could hear muffled shouts in the background and pounding on wood…maybe footsteps. It was all hard to make out, but there was no missing the desperate urgency in Marcus’s voice.
He crossed to the living room, flipping on lights as he moved through the rooms. He winced and blinked, his eyes complaining about the brightness. On the coffee table, he found an old receipt and a pen. He scribbled across it quickly to make sure it worked and sighed with relief. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“I need gauze, pads, medical tape—”
“Whiskey. Get some fucking whiskey!” shouted a new angry voice.
“Whiskey and peroxide,” Marcus continued.
“She broke my bow. My bow! She broke my bow!” cried another male voice Ethan didn’t recognize.
“I know, Bel. We’re going to get you a new bow for your cello. I promise.” The first angry voice had soothed the other person with such gentleness and care that it nearly broke Ethan’s heart. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, but someone was seriously hurt.
“Marcus, are you okay?” Ethan demanded.
“I’m fine. Get everything on the list and get to my house in thirty minutes,” Marcus snapped and then hung up the phone.
Ethan dropped his phone on the list and ran to his bedroom. He flipped on the light and started grabbing clothes. He wasn’t entirely sure if he was even picking up clean clothes or not. Didn’t matter. Someone was hurt. Probably one of Marcus’s brothers.