Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“Yeah. I was playing basketball with some of my colleagues and dislocated my kneecap. She was the trauma nurse who put me back together.” He swallows. “I’ve replayed that day a million times in my head. It was a chance meeting. I don’t know how Denver could’ve orchestrated it.”
“He couldn’t have known you would get injured,” Kody says from the back seat. “But if he was connected with someone in that hospital…”
“They could’ve assigned her to me for some nefarious reason.” Monty nods. “That’s a lot of could’ves and what ifs with no supporting evidence. All we have is the ramblings of a psychopath.”
“A psychopath who knew you met her in the hospital.” I grit my teeth. “How did Denver know that?”
“She never told him?”
“No.” I drum my fingers on my knee. “He said the first time he saw her was in that hospital, two years before he abducted her. Said he got a kidney stone while fishing in the Sitka Sound, and when he arrived at the hospital, he saw her in the hallway.”
“He had a different story in his video.” Kody shifts behind me. “He said he saw her during her residency in Anchorage, long before Monty knew her. So which is it?”
“Someone knows.” My ribs tighten. “And that someone is the who in his riddle.”
“You still think it’s me?” Monty’s hand twitches on the steering wheel.
“I haven’t ruled anyone out.”
Scowling, he pulls over on an empty stretch of road. “Take the wheel.”
I slide into the driver’s seat, heart pounding, as he gives me a few pointers.
Then we’re off.
The pedal responds to my touch like an extension of my foot, jolting us forward. After a few hard brakes and jerky whiplashes, I’m driving, turning, speeding up, and grinning so hard my cheeks hurt.
The Bentley hugs the curves of the road, its engine purring like a contented beast. Much easier to drive than the snow machine.
The scenery blurs past in a rush of green forests, white snow, and blue sky. The freedom is intoxicating, a reminder of why we fought so hard to escape the hills.
“Not bad.” Monty clears his throat and drags his gaze to mine. “I mean it. You’re a quick learner. Fast reflexes. You have a natural skill for driving, piloting, and operating machines.”
“Thanks.” Refusing to read too much into his praise, I find Kody’s eyes in the rearview. “Ready to take over?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
23
Frankie
—
The salty sea breeze caresses my face, and the yacht sways rhythmically beneath me. With each deep breath, I drift a little further away from the horror and pain of the past nine months. If only for a moment.
Monty’s security guards stand nearby, trying to blend into the background. I appreciate them more than they know. Without their watchful eyes, I wouldn’t be able to relax.
Not without Leo and Kody at my side.
I’m too dependent on the constant, vigilant protection of my feral boys, and they need a break from me to enjoy their new freedom.
Leo will flip when he sees Monty’s car collection. Even Kody will be reluctantly wowed. I smile at the thought of them hitting the gas and pushing Monty’s precious toys to their limits. I saw how hard they drove the snow machine and dirt bike.
Monty won’t care. His collection may be worth a fortune, but what matters more to him is having someone to share it with. I was never that person. He wanted me to take an interest, to share in his love for speed and performance. I tried, but I’m not a car enthusiast, plain and simple.
Doesn’t matter. Leo and Kody will do car stuff with him.
I lean back in my chair and let the sun warm my skin. I miss my job. I miss the chaos of the emergency room, the adrenaline rush of saving lives, and the camaraderie of my colleagues. I miss feeling like I belong somewhere, like I’m making a difference.
Lost in my thoughts, I sense someone behind me. I glance over my shoulder, and my breath stumbles.
Standing there, looking as handsome as I remember, is Dr. Rhett Howell.
Dressed in green scrubs, his blond hair slightly longer than usual, he greets me with winter blue eyes and a smile that lights up his flawless face.
“Rhett.” I rise from my seat.
“Frankie.” He spreads his arms wide.
We meet in a warm embrace. The sterile, astringent scent of his skin brings back a flood of memories from the hospital.
“Look at you.” He steps back, giving me a clinical once-over, his expression creasing with concern.
“Don’t say it.”
“You lost weight you didn’t have to lose.”
“Unlike you. Always the picture of perfection.”
“Well, someone has to uphold the standards.” He winks, charming as ever.
“Sit, please.” I gesture to the chairs on the deck. “Can I get you something to drink? Water? Wine?”
“No.” He waves a hand dismissively. “I’m still on the clock.”