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)
I’m not a runner. I stick around and work through my problems. I mean, it took five years to give up on Lucas, and he had to force me into it.
This is going to be different. Better. It just has to be.
My heart feels lighter than it has all day when I back away from the stoop, determined to go back to Callum after work and set some ground rules. We need them if this is ever going to work. He came around last night when I told him how important it was to keep my job. That means he’s not totally unreasonable.
I might be telling myself what I want to hear, but I don’t care. I’m happier with him than without him—that much, I know. We’ll find a way.
I’m so busy convincing myself of this as I step off the curb that I don’t hear the car coming straight for me.
Not just coming. Speeding up.
It hits me, and I hit the ground, and everything goes dark.
CALLUM
“Boss?”
The sound of Romero calling for me out in the hall is what breaks the resolve I’ve barely been able to hang onto once five-thirty came and went. That was more than a half hour ago, and there’s still no sign of her.
She lied to me. She fucking lied to my face when she said she’d come home after work. I’d get a phone call if there was traffic or some emergency. Unless she was trying to avoid me.
Which means that’s exactly what she’s trying to do. She’s too responsible for this to be anything but deliberate.
I’m already halfway to the door before I bellow in reply. “What the hell do you want?”
He was on his way across the hall and now falls back a step. “I had a handful of contracts for you to look over. The new shipments?” He extends a handful of folders.
Folders I ignore. “I don’t have time for this shit right now.” The damn things could be written in Sanskrit, and I wouldn’t notice. I can’t care about anything but Bianca. Why isn’t she here? Why hasn’t she called?
Did she make a fool out of me again? Because I believed her, I did. I was sure she’d come back. Because she’s mine.
She is, isn’t she?
“Fuck!”
“What?” Romero calls out after me, but I’m already halfway down the hall and pulling up Bianca’s contact details on my phone. I’m not waiting another minute to let her know this is unacceptable. I’ll tie her to the bed from now on, the way I should’ve done last night. When will I listen to my instincts when it comes to her?
Her phone rings once, twice, while I march to her room. I don’t have the first idea what I’m looking for, though I can’t help wondering if she figured out the switch I pulled with her pills. No, that’s impossible. The packaging is identical. I didn’t leave anything out of place, either.
So why didn’t she come home when she said she would?
The answer is obvious once I find the three packed bags she left in the bedroom closet. There’s nothing I can do but stare at them while the rushing of blood in my ears deafens me to everything else but the burning rage that’s about to make me burst into flames. The evidence of her plotting against me is sitting right there. She hardly tried to hide it.
“Did you think it would be this easy?” I ask her voicemail since that’s the closest I’ve managed to get to speaking directly to her. “You think I won’t find you? Think again. And when I do, we’re going to have this out.”
It isn’t good enough. I need her in front of me. Now.
No more listening when she gives me her sob stories about wanting a life of her own. No more giving a shit about her satisfaction with her career or whatever the hell she thinks she’s building. She won’t have time for that once she’s pregnant, anyway.
I should have listened to myself. What is it about her that makes me forget everything I know?
On the way back to my office, I grab a trio of my guys hanging out in the kitchen, eating slabs of chocolate cake Sheryl left out tonight. “Earn your money,” I grunt, waving for them to abandon their plates and follow me instead. “What, do I pay you to gorge yourselves?”
“Sorry, boss,” one of them murmurs behind me. I don’t bother looking to see which one of them it was. It doesn’t matter.
“The three of you are going hunting.” I signal for Romero to join us once we reach his doorway. “And you, I want checking with the parking company that runs the garage attached to Bianca’s office building. I’ll text you the address.”
“What’s going on?” he asks, following me to my laptop while the guards fall in step behind him.