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)
“Frankie.” Worry ravages me as I watch her. “It’s clean. I already swept the entire yacht this morning. There are no cameras.”
“Are you sure?” She freezes, clutching her phone to her chest, her features contorted with indecision.
“Without a doubt. What happened?”
Whoever frightened her will feel the full force of my goddamn wrath.
Hauling a gulp of air into her lungs, she unlocks her phone and hands it to me.
The screen opens to a conversation with an unknown number.
Cold dread pummels my insides as I read the messages.
The cryptic insinuations, the threats, every twisted text preys on her fears. And the last message…
Who am I? I think you know. We share the same heart of frost and scars.
It triggers an unwanted image of Denver’s cruel smile in his video, resonating with the same dark undertones of his riddle.
Hell, some of those words—heart, frost, scars—were in the riddle.
My stomach drops like a block of ice as I lower to the bed, trying to tamp down my rising fury. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I was afraid this person would hurt you.” Her voice breaks. “I didn’t know what to do. I tried to ask you about Monty, about his phone.”
“Monty was on his phone most of the afternoon.” I rack my brain, trying to piece together the timing.
“Did he use different phones? A burner might look smaller or cheaper.”
“I don’t remember.” All these gadgets look the same to me, and the day’s events blur together.
“What if it’s him? I didn’t alert the guards because they work for him.” She makes a keening sound, her face crumpling. “What if he’s behind this?”
“Hey, hey.” I toss her phone aside, hook an arm around her waist, and pull her onto my lap, positioning her to straddle me. “We don’t know if it’s him.”
The possibility wrings my gut with sickening dread. Monty, the man who should protect her above all else, the man who has everything except the one thing he wants.
If he’s terrorizing her…
My breath snarls and seethes, gathering strength, the precursor to a raging storm about to break. Heat surges through my veins, my fists clenching against her lower back.
I can’t lose control. She needs me to be calm, to be her anchor.
Closing my eyes, I mentally bottle the storm, each ragged breath pushing it down. With each slow exhale, I will my heartbeat to steady, each beat shoving me away from the precipice. The snarl fades. The seethe ebbs. I bury it deep where it won’t consume me.
“Where’s Kody?” She places a clammy palm on my cheek, shaking on my lap.
“He’s with Monty at Tipsy Sailor.” I draw a finger down her cheek, tracing the rigid line of her jaw. “They’re negotiating with the owner. Monty is trying to buy it for Kody.”
As I explain the tour of the distillery and conversation with Pilip, her eyes widen with fresh terror, the panic building.
“He’s alone with Monty.” A tremor runs through her, driving her fingernails into my shoulders. Her breathing quickens, short and shallow gasps chopping her words. “What if that was Monty’s plan all along? To get Kody alone?”
“Frankie.” I take her face in my hands, trying to catch her gaze. “Look at me.”
“We have to call Kody. Warn him.” Her eyes dart around the room, unfocused and frantic. “No, wait. We can’t. Monty would know I told you. If Kody leaves, Monty will know. He might try to hurt him.”
This woman. This brave, stunning, stubborn goddamn woman.
She held herself together for the past couple of hours, talking to Rhett while pretending she didn’t have threatening messages on her phone. She maintained her composure throughout the evening, refusing to call and put us in danger.
She dealt with it without freaking out.
Until now.
Not because she fears for her own life but because she’s worried about Kody.
I should redden her ass for choosing to protect us over herself.
“Listen to me.” I hold her head, forcing her gaze on mine. “Kody is a mean son of a bitch. He smells danger coming from a mile away.”
She’s not listening, too panicked to process what I’m telling her, the hysteria coming in too strong.
Her chest heaves rapidly as she clenches her teeth, trying to keep it together, but the signs are there. Her fingers scrape against my skin, her body tensing like a coiled spring ready to snap.
“Eyes on me.” I harden my tone, sounding harsher than I intend. “Breathe with me, love.”
She finally obeys, the liquid depths of her gaze swimming with fear, pupils dilated, her face devoid of color.
“We’ll figure this out.” I wrap my arms around her trembling body, pulling her pelvis tightly against mine. “Right now, you need to breathe. Focus on me.”
Her heart pounds against my chest, her breathing erratic, falling apart.
“Feel me.” I press a gentle kiss to her forehead, then her mouth, trying to calm her.