Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Thor.
He’d followed me to work again.
And, I had on good authority, he likely didn’t like that I was talking to some man that wasn’t him right now.
I narrowed my eyes and shifted, inadvertently shifting closer to Porn Guy. Laric.
“Who is that?”
I startled, surprised to hear that voice so close to me.
I turn, and my face is right there next to his.
“Umm.” I can’t think straight. It’s hard to breathe. “That’s…”
The moment Laric’s hand met my hips, I knew that it was the wrong decision.
I knew, deep down in the bottom of my heart, that Thor couldn’t handle the touch.
Because, the moment Laric’s hand met the length of my hip, I couldn’t stop my body from leaning into his.
That’s when all hell broke loose.
• • •
LARIC
I touched her hip, unable to stop myself, and lean in slightly. “Who is that?”
Just as the last syllable in ‘that’ leaves my lips, things exploded.
The man in the car that apparently was watching her got out.
One second we’re standing, and the next there’s a gun pointed at us.
I reacted like I’d been trained to do and fell backward, taking her with me.
But it wasn’t fast enough.
She cried out as the gunfire started pinging against her stupid pink car.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
Whatever he had is silenced.
It’s loud, but not loud enough to be able to pinpoint what it is precisely unless you’ve heard something like it before.
I’d heard it a lot.
So, apparently, had Zach.
Because the moment that the sound started to permeate the air, Zach’s yelling my name.
Something hot and warm began to seep into my shirt, and I knew without a doubt that the dead weight of the woman on top of me was bad.
She’s hit.
I looked up from behind the pink monstrosity to see Zach hunkered down looking at me from his porch steps. The length of his house is covering him, and I can see in his eyes that something was very, very wrong.
We make eye contact from across the space, and the bullets stall.
Magazine trade out.
I know that I have ten seconds max.
Ten.
CHAPTER 4
It doesn’t matter what’s in front of her as long as she knows what’s behind her.
-Laric to Bruno
LARIC
I get up, pull the woman with me, and run.
I don’t run to Zach’s house, though.
That’s where his girl and new daughter are.
I run to Crockett’s place, which was across the street, catty-corner to where the man was shooting from.
I didn’t know if he saw me.
I don’t even know if my feet touch the fuckin’ ground, that’s how fast I run.
I took a precious two seconds to input the code to Crockett’s door, all but fall inside, and then slam it closed behind me.
Every lock that she has on the place gets thrown, then I’m up and moving again, going as far and as deep into the house as I can before I find a bathroom.
Once there, I place Catori in the cast iron tub.
Then the shooting starts again.
I reached for the stack of decorative towels that are on the ledge over the sink, then join her in the tub.
Bullets hit Crockett’s house.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
They hit in a rapid staccato, making my heart race and my eyes twitch with each bang.
Once I am situated, my knees on either side of her hips, I move upward until I can reach the V of her shirt, fist both sides of it, and then rip it straight down the middle.
That’s when I get my first good look at her wound.
Listen, I was no stranger to blood.
I’d spent four years as an army medic. Four years in prison where I saw fights on an hourly basis. And that’s not even including the twelve years I grew up as the foster kid to Bryen Davis. The man that liked to emphasize everything. With his fists.
But nothing could’ve prepared me for all the blood that I saw pouring from Cat’s wound.
A wound in her arm that I knew, high up by her armpit. Without a fuckin’ doubt, it had hit something vital.
Wounds didn’t pour that much blood and not hit something vital.
I grabbed one of the towels that was in the stack on my lap, then pressed down so hard onto the wound that Cat came to a jarring alertness.
She took one look at me and settled.
Her eyes were feverish and bright, and the sheen of moisture over her brown eyes made them look like melted chocolate.
She swallowed.
“Is it bad?”
Her voice sounded steady.
Her eyes, though? Those told me that she was scared as all hell.
I didn’t want to lie to her.
But I also didn’t want her to give up without one hell of a fight.
“Flesh wound, can’t you tell?” I asked, my muscles all but shaking now due to the force I was using to press down onto her wound.
She swallowed.
Then her eyes went to the cut over my shoulders, down my shoulders to the tattoos on my arms, then to where my hands were pressing against her skin.