Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
My eyes dart back to Em. I’ve spoken with her the most, and since she’s the president’s wife, I figure she has the most pull around here.
She gives her head a little shake, telling me this is how it will be.
“They won’t bother you,” Kincaid assures me.
“I don’t think I need—”
“It’s a requirement,” Kincaid says, cutting me off. “They’re not going to be out there to be intrusive, and every one of the people who work for Cerberus would lay down their life for yours. It’s non-negotiable.”
I almost want to ask to stay with either of them, but that means being around a dozen men instead of just one.
“They’re just going to sit outside?”
“And walk around the house periodically,” Kincaid answers. “Maybe when you get a little more comfortable, they can hang out in the living room.”
I swallow, thinking that day is a very long way away.
“Okay,” I agree, having no other leg to stand on.
“I’ve written down the alarm code on the list of numbers Em got for you. It’s on the kitchen counter. We’ll get out of your hair so you can get settled in.” I nod my thanks to Kincaid.
“What time do I work tomorrow?”
“You’re welcome anytime, but your scheduled shift doesn’t start until nine.”
I nod, standing in the same place while they all walk out of the house.
Em stops directly in front of me, Kincaid hovering nearby as well, as if he just can’t imagine being more than ten feet from her.
“Call me if you need absolutely anything.”
“I will.”
“Promise?”
I give her a smile at the mother-hen behavior. “Promise.”
“Boomer is first up this evening, Ali. He’ll be here shortly in a black SUV. Don’t worry when you see it pull up across the street.”
“Not in the driveway?”
“They’ll be able to see more of the property from directly in front. Lock this door when we leave.” Kincaid taps the doorframe. “See you tomorrow.”
I do as he commanded, locking the door the second they clear the threshold, knowing how rude it is not to stand on the stoop and wave as they back out of the driveway. My mother would be disappointed if she knew how I behaved.
I peek out the curtains, my anxiety heightening as I watch them climb in the vehicle and slowly back away.
The meds I took hours ago seem to be wearing off, and that thrills me to a point because I’ll be more in control of my emotions and responses, but it also scares me for the very same reason.
I drop the curtain back into place and head to the kitchen, looking over the list of names before finding the code to the security system at the bottom. I lift the paper and carry it to the alarm system on the living room wall.
Before I can type in the code, the doorbell rings. I screech like it’s midnight and I’m looking out the window only to find someone in the yard staring back with a machete.
My phone rings a second later, and absently I answer it and put it to my ear, my hand shaking and heart racing.
“Hello?”
I don’t recognize the man’s voice.
“Ali? This is Boomer. I’m on the front porch. Just wanted to introduce myself. Kincaid said he told you I was coming.”
“He did,” I croak. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m not going to force you to open the door, but if you could look out the window so you know what I look like, that would be great. I don’t want to get shot during one of my patrols.”
“G-get shot?”
“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle so easy it has me walking closer to the front windows. “I have to patrol.”
“That’s not—are there guns in the house?”
“I imagine there are. Didn’t you bring your own?”
I shake my head, despite his inability to see me.
“I don’t own a gun.”
“Forty-five percent of people in Nebraska own a gun. I guess I shouldn’t assume.”
“You know random facts about Nebraska?”
“I know random facts about a lot of things. I read a lot.”
“Isn’t it dangerous for guns to be in the house with Aria here?”
“She’s not even walking yet, but I imagine her parents… Harley will teach her gun safety.”
“I don’t know how to use a gun,” I confess, peeking out the window to see a man younger than I expected, standing on the walkway in front of the house.
He waves when he sees the curtain move, and I find myself grinning at his shaggy hair and boyish looks.
“I’m older than I look. I promise I’m capable of keeping you safe.”
“I have no doubt,” I tell him, noticing how his t-shirt clings to his biceps.
“I’ll be right across the street if you need me.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, letting the curtain flutter closed.
I end the call, feeling bad about him being outside, but not enough to let him inside. I’m sure he’s a great guy. Grace said they all were and since she had been through even more than I have, I know she wouldn’t tell me something like that if she honestly didn’t believe it herself.