Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Do you know where he is?” So I can stick a knife through his fucking eye, but I leave that bit out, because he’s still confused and might not like to hear that his brother has it coming.
Blake rests his forehead against me, and his arms briefly tighten around me. But then they’re gone, and he grabs the needle.
“I have an idea how to locate him.”
Chapter 15
Blake
I spent two hours on my knees. And not in the way I’d want to.
By the time I managed to get the blood off any surfaces it needed to disappear from, the room was painfully cold and smelled of bleach. I was like Cinderella with the cramps in my freezing hands. Nico boarded the window up, and we stowed the assassin’s body in a freezer in the secret basement. By the time the sun came up, I was dozing in Nico’s car while we sped toward Toronto, to meet the hacker who earlier helped me break into the FBI database.
How the hell has my life devolved into this Pulp Fiction fuckery? Just a few days ago, I was a teenager living a comfortable, if boring, existence in a huge house surrounded by a park. I’ve since been abducted twice, and had not one but two men try to murder me. And, apparently, my own brother is behind all this.
How come a serial killer has become my only ally?
Nico’s not dressed in any ugly Christmas sweater and looks more serious than ever. His dark blond hair is tied back, his eyes focused on the road, since it’s snowing, and a black scarf covers his lower face.
We both had a thorough wash after the cleanup, so he also smells good, teasing me with his scent even though he was the one to propose we shower separately since he still had work to do at the time. I should appreciate that, yet all I feel is regret that I didn’t get to see him naked. Maybe at this point he’s become my emotional support serial killer, and that’s why I don’t feel safe unless I’m hugging him?
The moment I stabbed the assassin’s neck keeps replaying in my mind, and each time, more gory detail is added. It was necessary, and if I hadn’t, Nico would have killed him anyway. But the fact that he wouldn’t have appeared if it wasn’t for my actions weighs heavily on my heart. The scent of blood still clings to me even after thirty minutes in the shower, and as I watch the road, the plunging noise the knife made is a constant echo in my ears.
I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after this.
Nico packed some basics for both of us, including that repulsive knitted Christmas sweater. When I complained about it, he bristled up and said it was warm, so I gave up. It wasn’t worth fighting over when I get to sit in the car in my warm woolen coat anyway.
There’s a wall between us despite him being in the market for my brother’s head. He seems unable to understand just how confusing the situation is for me.
For him, my decision to contact Carl was a betrayal, but it made sense to me at the time to seek help, because—hello—he’s someone who’s murdered many people. That’s bound to cause trust issues.
So why do I feel so guilty about it all? Is it because Nico got injured while covering me with his own body? I told him I don’t know him well, but he was willing to put his life on the line for me, something no one else would have done. I didn’t ask for any of this. Not to be abducted, not to need saving, and not for his dick against my ass.
And yet here I am, in his car, sulking that he hasn’t called me sweetie once since the whole assassin drama. But he does have all the niceties in the world for Owen, whose voice I’m beginning to despise through no fault of his own.
“Sure, no problem, I’ll get it done. You know I’m fast. If push comes to shove, the temps are always happy to do some overtime,” he says cheerfully as Nico chuckles.
“I promise this won’t encroach on your holidays with Adam. I’ll be back in a couple of days tops.”
“A spontaneous winter getaway. How romantic,” Owen says, happy for a relationship Nico and I don’t actually have.
I find myself annoyed by the confusing emotions this whole situation is stirring in me. Sure, he blew my mind in bed, causing me to temporarily forget I wasn’t supposed to mess around with him, but that doesn’t mean I want him to be my boyfriend…or do I?
He’s not even touched my thigh since we got into this car three hours ago. Do I want Nico, the Christmas Killer, or do I just crave to be desired, and he’s simply the only one who’s given me a taste of how that feels?