Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
And I’m not a very good liar, at least not when living with the man. Telling a few fibs over lunch is one thing, but being in the same house… It’s inevitable that I’ll let something slip.
“Then I’ll go to a hotel.” I gently push her away and slip into a pair of leggings and a T-shirt chosen at random. I only know I need to get out of here before he talks me into staying.
“We’ll go to a hotel.”
“No, you don’t—”
“Shut up. Like I would leave you alone right now. That’s not what friends do. You’re in shock, and if something happened to you. No. I’m going.”
I shake my head. “I’m not trying to drag you into this.”
“You’re not dragging me into shit. I love my dad, and I’m glad he found you and brought you back, but he’s not my favorite person right now. He’s made some serious errors lately, not to mention he used me as leverage for a fucking business deal. Do you know how insulting that is? I’m not a fucking object to be bid on.”
No, I can’t imagine, but I know what it feels like to be hurt by him.
There is no talking her out of this. She grabs a bag from the closet and starts packing. “Forget it. I’m going with you, so move your ass.”
Even though it’s painful to move my ass, I do it. I don’t want to do this. It hurts so much. Like I’m physically being torn in two. But I refuse to live the rest of my life in a cage. If it means having my heart ripped out for the sake of protecting myself in the future, that’s the way it needs to be. And that’s what I tell myself as Tatum and I sneak out of the house in the middle of the night, the storm still blowing hard, but not as brutally as before. We look over our shoulders as we run, bags in hand, before fleeing in my car like a couple of escaped convicts.
That’s exactly how I feel. Like I just broke out of prison.
A prison I walked into with my eyes wide open.
CALLUM
The shattering of glass fills the air but doesn’t do anything to quiet the storm in my head. “Then what the fuck are they using for money if none of Tatum’s cards have been accessed?”
“Bianca must be paying for it herself,” Romero muses.
He’s still standing exactly where he stood when he told me there’s been no trace of Tatum’s activity twenty hours after they ran away. His balls are massive. He’s the only one of my guys who’s been able to stay in the room with me for more than half a minute since last night. All my men are running scared, scrambling around like chickens without their fucking heads, and none of it matters.
We’re no fucking closer to finding them than we were last night.
“That’s on me,” I growl, kicking aside one of the chairs in front of my desk. “I should have been tracking Bianca’s finances, too.”
When will I learn? I should’ve been doing lots of things.
“The good news is they can’t stay away forever.”
I bark out a bitter laugh. “Do you want to bet? We’re talking about Tatum here.”
“I’m talking more about Bianca. The girl was in shock. You shot off half her ex’s head while they were in the same bed. You can never tell what somebody’s going to do when they’re in shock. If you ask me, her reaction is pretty calm.”
He is not helping matters.
“Then, by all fucking means, let’s allow both of them to run around the world unsupervised. Look, I already feel better…” I pin him with an icy stare.
His nostrils flare as he lets out a slow breath. “My point is, Tatum might have gone along with Bianca to make sure she was safe. After what happened, she probably wasn’t thinking clearly. She fell back on an old habit.”
Running away. Yes, that is an old habit of hers. Because she would rather face a cruel and unforgiving world than face me. I hate myself for wanting so much to believe him. I want to cling to that bit of hope that he’s giving me because I’m a pitiful fucking bastard when it comes to this girl. That’s what she’s done to me. She’s made me weak, emotional, and undisciplined. I’m out of control and won’t be able to find my footing again until I find her. How am I supposed to go on if Bianca isn’t my reason for living?
“Tatum is level-headed,” Romero continues in that measured voice he puts on when he’s trying to calm me down.
That makes me laugh again. If there’s one adjective I’d use when describing my daughter, level-headed would not be it. Now I know he’s breaking his back to placate me, blowing smoke up my ass. “If she was, she would have come to me instead of running off in the middle of the night. It’s irresponsible. They’re acting like they’re having an adventure together or some bullshit.”