Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79749 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
"You might have to do things a little differently than he does in New Mexico."
I knew we were picked for Gatlinburg because we're all different from the guys and gals that are on the Farmington team. We're a bunch of surly, angry bastards. I'm not saying the folks over there are chumps, but they do better with a group surrounding them. We were chosen for our ability to blend in and get shit done with a little more subtlety than kicking in a door and blowing shit up. Not that the way they do things doesn't seem like a load of fucking fun as well.
"Did you call just to give me shit?" he snaps, well and truly past our little bitch session.
"Is he scaring Zara? What about Ace's woman Cora? If they get a bad vibe off him, then you might need to do something about it," I say instead of keeping up with the joking around.
"Zara isn't scared of him and I haven't seen Cora enough to know what she thinks of him. I just don't want any problems in my fucking house."
"Keep an eye on him," I urge. "But you and I both know that Kincaid is a spectacular judge of character. He wouldn't put someone in your path who wasn't meant to take the journey with us."
"Sounding all fucking poetic and shit, Jericho. Are you being held captive and forced to get all reflective on your life?"
"I am sort of trapped," I mutter. "I'm back in Boston."
His silence is telling. He's read my file. He knows what happened here eight years ago.
"You think that's a good idea?"
"It's the only choice I had," I answer. "I need to put my monsters to bed."
"People will notice if Damien Gaines goes missing."
"I'm not talking about that kind of bed, but it might be unavoidable."
"Tell me what you've got and what you think you need to do."
I spend the next twenty minutes explaining the situation, confessing to the emails, and giving him every damn piece of information leading up to her keeping her back to me today at the salon and going back inside. I want his help. I want the support of the team I know I have, because despite my and Aspen's history, I don't want her to be hurt. I don't wish her ill or think she deserves any form of abuse she's getting from Damien fucking Gaines.
"Give me a few days to see what we can find out on our end. Try not to do anything that will put you or Cerberus in the crosshairs of any criminal organization."
"I'll do my best," I say before hanging up. There are always situations when split-second decisions have to be made and it's impossible to evaluate all the fallout that might come later.
Chapter 8
Aspen
I blink at Roxanne, and all she does is stare right back at me. I'm in a position where I might need her help mere minutes after putting her in her place, and I don't like the way the contradiction makes me feel.
I pull my phone from my small handbag and consider calling Damien. It's what he would expect from me, but what in the world do I tell the man?
That a guy he is rumored to have killed, a man he has bragged to me numerous times told him that he hated me just before he died, called out my name in the alleyway.
I shake my head, rejecting the idea. It's in my head because I've been stupid enough to risk my life by sending those emails. It was a way to get shit off my chest because I have no one else to speak to about any of it. I've somehow let him deep into my psyche. He isn't real. Luke Gannon is dead, and he has been since the day I turned against him the first and only time our love was challenged.
I pull in a deep breath, but my hands are still shaking when I shove my phone back into my purse. Unlike when I first stepped outside, I angle up on the tips of my toes and use the peephole. The alleyway is clear, and I hiss a breath of relief as I lower down to my heels and press my head against the cool steel.
"Aspen?"
"Mrs. Gaines," I snap, correcting her, hating that someone is here to bear witness to me freaking out.
"Can I call someone to help you, Mrs. Gaines?" The tone of her voice tells me that she's less than impressed with the way I've spoken to her, but I'm in no position to correct her further right now.
"I'll be fine," I bark, once again lifting back up on the very tips of my toes to look out the peephole.
Much to my surprise and relief, Samuel is back outside waiting for me.