Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
A sharp gasp tears from within me as my hand flies to my mouth. Carver’s little sisters are only seven and nine, and despite the blindfolds that cover most of their faces, their fear is as clear as day. Cruz’s brothers are a little older and look as though they’re trying to be brave for the rest of them, but it’s not working. They’re scared for their lives, and they should be. Paris isn’t the kind to willingly spare them. She’ll kill each of them just to teach the boys a lesson.
King’s brother and sister, Caitlin and Cody sit side by side, their pinky fingers interlocked as they desperately try to hold onto hope. They’re only six. They shouldn’t be facing this, especially Caitlin who’s still healing from the explosion during the ball.
This isn’t fair.
Grayson’s little brother has his face turned and it’s impossible to make out what he’s feeling, but I have a pretty good guess. He’s older than the rest, maybe fifteen or sixteen, and I don’t doubt that he’s heard the whispers going around about Paris Moustaff. They all know they’re in danger, but he’s the only one who would know just how much.
I read the caption below the photo.
‘Either she dies or they do. Take your pick.’
I shake my head, unable to believe what I’m seeing. “We have to do something,” I say, tears instantly staining my cheeks.
“We are doing something,” he insists, the intensity in his eyes urging me to hurry up and realize that. “We faked your death. The second we saw you race out of the cabin, we blew it up. We had no fucking choice. We did what we had to do to save them, and I’m so fucking sorry that we lost your trust in the process, but I’d do it a million times over if it means saving my little sisters.”
I stare up at him, my mind twisting and turning with all this information. “I … I don’t even know what to say. Did you … Are they safe?”
Carver shakes his head. “She didn’t fucking release them. She wants your fucking body as proof.”
My heart shatters and in a split second, I know what I have to do.
I step into Carver and raise my chin to press a kiss against his cheek, the rage and betrayal that sits heavily inside my chest quickly fading away. Reaching around him, I grip the gun that rests in the back of his jeans and press it into his hands. “It’s okay,” I tell him, the tears welling faster and faster in my eyes. “Just promise me that you’ll make it quick. They come first. Save your sisters.”
CHAPTER 6
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Carver snaps, snatching the gun far away from me and tucking it back into the waistband of his jeans. “No one is fucking dying, especially not you. Paris isn’t going to win like that.”
“You have no choice,” I remind him. “She needs my dead body, otherwise all your siblings are as good as dead. Don’t pretend like you don’t know that.”
“You don’t think that’s the only fucking thought that’s gone through my head for the past forty-eight hours? It’s not an option. You are my family now.”
I shake my head, seeing no other way around it. “Then what the hell are you going to do? Chasing me through the fucking woods for two days isn’t helping anyone.”
“Chasing you through the woods meant that you were running in the opposite fucking direction of Ravenwood Heights, and the longer she thinks that you’re dead, the greater chance we have of getting each of them back alive. So yeah, chasing you through the woods is helping everyone.”
Carver grabs my wrist and tugs it hard, pulling me toward the entrance of the diner as he lets out a frustrated groan. “Come on,” he snaps. “I said we’re stopping to eat and talk and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”
I hurry along, sure that if I were to stop, he’d probably just tug my whole fucking hand right off my body. We walk through the dirty glass door and head straight for the counter. Carver sits first and I slide into the space beside him as he looks up at the young waitress who eats him up with her sultry gaze. “We’ll take two burgers with fries,” he tells her, not noticing the way she eye-fucks him with every chance she gets.
I settle in beside him and he takes my hand, slowly rubbing his thumb across the top of my knuckles. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs once the waitress scurries off to put in our order. “You don’t know how fucking badly I wish that we could have done things differently, but we had a split second to make a decision and we went with the one that would guarantee you staying away.”