Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 131926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
I step in closer, putting myself right in front of him as Carver grips his chin and forces his deadly stare up to mine. Not one of the guys move, allowing me to take control of how this is going to go down. “Nowhere to run,” I taunt, loving how the tables have turned.
“Fuck you,” he spits, knowing damn well that he’s not going to make it out of this alive. “Kill me.”
“Careful what you wish for,” Carver grunts, pulling uncomfortably harder on his chin and forcing him to try and pull free.
Jacob’s hard glare comes shooting back to mine. “You’re fucked, Elodie. Whether it was me who killed you tonight, or someone else tomorrow, your clock is ticking. It’s only a matter of time before these assholes turn their back and you get a bullet right through your pretty little head.”
Cruz scoffs, clearly not on board with the idea of them ever turning their backs, but Jacob uses it to try and get in my head. “How long do you think these dickheads are going to have your back? Soon enough, saving your ass is going to get old, and where will you be when that happens? Better yet, how many times are you going to put their lives at risk just to save your own? You’re a selfish bitch if you ask me. You’d have to have a magical fucking pussy to get me to throw myself in front of a bullet for you.”
His words dig deep, but I don’t let it show. I know it’s all talk. He’s trying to get in my head and it’s fucking working, but it’s a whole lot of bullshit that I’m going to have to unload later. It does nothing to save his life. He’ll still be dying tonight, and I’ll still be walking away with one less threat against me.
We could stand here all night and interrogate him. There are so many unanswered questions. Who’s he working with? Who was on the other end of that call? Who was the female standing outside Carver’s house setting up the last hit on me? There are all these questions that we’ve been desperately trying to work out, and I bet between the guys, they have all sorts of tricks for extracting information. But then, Jacob has probably been trained to sit back and take it. We’d just be wasting our time.
These questions aren’t getting answered tonight, and even with Jacob out of the picture, I’m just as fucked as I was before.
Wanting to get this over and done with, I raise my blank stare up to meet Carver’s, and as his eyes come to mine, all the bullshit between us falls away for a moment. “Do it,” I tell him.
And just like that, Carver nods and adjusts his grip on Jacob’s head before violently twisting and snapping his neck.
His lifeless body crumbles to the ground, and not wanting to hang around for some bullshit shallow grave burial, I turn and walk back toward the party.
CHAPTER 24
I slam the shot glass down and it clatters against the bar as I look up at the guy standing behind it and demand a refill.
Tonight fucking sucks. It was supposed to be a night where I got to dance with Ember and forget the shitty world around me. I was having fun playing with the guys and even after screwing with Carver’s head, I didn’t think it could get any better. I’m just glad that we caught Jacob before the night could have taken a turn for the worst.
My shot glass is filled and before the guy can even pull his hand away, my fingers are curling around the cool glass and raising it to my mouth. I throw it back and revel in the burn that flows down my throat. “Woah,” a familiar voice says, stepping in beside me. “Why didn’t you come get me? If I knew we were doing shots, I would have come to play, but now I have to play catch-up instead.”
I can’t help but smile at Ember. I can always trust her to be down with whatever fucked up situation I throw her way. “Don’t even think about it,” I tell her. “After what you’ve already drunk, if you started playing catch-up, you’re going to end up spending the night in the hospital getting your stomach pumped.”
Ember laughs, grabbing my used shot glass and pushing it toward the bartender. “Hit me,” she says to the guy before looking back at me. “Girl, you have to give me more credit. If anyone around here can handle their liquor, it’s me.”
“Okay,” I tell her as a cocky grin stretches across my face. “But I think I’m up to my fifth or sixth shot.”
Her eyes bug out of her head. “Six? Fuck. Umm … okay,” she says as a nervous confidence settles over her. “I’ve got this. It’s just a temporary setback. Six. Cool, okay. Let’s go, just promise you’ll hold my hair back later because I’ll be pissed if you let me get chunks all through it. Do you have any idea what it just cost me to get it colored?”