Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
The smell of smoke tickles my nostrils. What is burning? Callum rushes towards me, his hands cup my cheeks and I want to tell him I'm okay but I can't hear my own voice.
What happened?
The look on his face is pure terror, and his hands wrap tight around my arms as he pulls me through the kitchen, my Dad close behind us. Once outside, the fresh air helps a little, but I still can't put the pieces together on what happened. All I know is that my heart's pounding out of my chest, and I think I'm going to throw up.
“Are you alright?” I can read Callum's lips even if it sounds like he's talking to me from behind a closed door. He runs his hands over my arms, torso, face, and neck. “Were you injured?” I shake my head hard and he touches his forehead to mine for a moment before letting me go. My Dad gathers me in his arms.
“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice muffled. My head bobs up and down, and I lean against him when he wraps me in a protective hug. I can't get my body to stop trembling.
A minute ago, Callum was on one knee, looking up at me with so much love I didn't know how I could take it. I was overwhelmed, overjoyed, and blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. Everything was finally clicking into place; my happy ending was within sight.
Now, Callum paces like a caged animal, shouting into his phone. He even kicks a patio chair into the pool in his rage.
“What happened?” That's all I can say, over and over, while thin wisps of smoke begin drifting out through the partly opened sliding door.
“An explosion,” Dad says close to my ear. “Something exploded.”
“That fucking package!” Callum roars.
“What package?” My question is swallowed up by Callum's continuous shouting. I've seen him like this before. He is ready to kill someone.
“There was a package.” Dad is probably shouting, too, since his ears are probably ringing as bad as mine are. “It came when you were in the bathroom.”
“I want you back here now!” Callum bellows into the phone. “Right now, immediately, and on the way, call everybody in.”
Then he stops in his tracks, looking at me. “You still have eyes on Tatum, right?” he asks the person on the other end—I'm guessing Romero. I tense up, gasping, and Dad's arms tighten around me.
“She's fine,” Callum tells us before turning his attention back to the phone. “Get her here, now.”
He then puts his phone away, lacing his fingers together on top of his head. “I should have known. I should have fucking known!”
“What the hell is going on?” Dad demands. “What the fuck did you get her into this time?”
“Dad, don't,” I beg, but he doesn't want to hear it.
Callum throws Dad a steely glare. “Not now.” He reaches for me, yet Dad refuses to let me go.
“Please,” I plead. “I'm okay. Are you?” He looks fine, uninjured like Callum and me, although he's shaking from head to toe. I can only imagine what must be going through his head.
“I'm going back in there,” Callum decides.
“No, don't!” On impulse, I try to follow him, but Dad refuses to let me go no matter how much I twist and fight to escape his grasp. “Don't go!”
“Let him do what he needs to do,” Dad insists.
“I don't understand!” Though now that the shock is starting to clear from my mind, I think I get it. Somebody bombed the house. Somebody's still trying to kill us. Trying to kill my baby.
I should be afraid—and I am. I'm scared to death that there will be another explosion while I stand here trying to make sense of the madness. I'm terrified of losing Callum. What if he never comes back through that door? There's a thin line between fear and rage. The rage is taking over, turning the terrified pounding of my heart into something murderous.
They tried to kill my baby, again.
And I don't think it's any mystery who's behind it.
“We have to get away from the house,” Dad decides, pulling me along the patio, and around the pool until we're standing at the far end. “Jesus, why do you want any part in this family?”
I ignore the question once Callum emerges, waving at us. “Come on. I want you to get her out of here.”
“Is it safe?” Dad asks.
“The box was destroyed. There's nothing left to detonate.” When Dad doesn't move fast enough, Callum charges at us, taking hold of me. “I mean it. I want her out of here, and you have to be the one to take her.”
“I'm not leaving you!” I may as well be talking to myself for all the good it does. Callum pretty much ignores me as he rushes me through the house, where the alarm is still shrieking. It's like an ice pick drilling into my eardrum. We hurry down the hall from the kitchen, where plaster dust is drifting through the air and the acrid smoke from a small fire flickering in what's left of the entry hall.