Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“—no one to know.”
Oh. Fuck.
I had already come through the first door by the time I realized what I was walking into. Through the doors, through the window, I could see Benjamin. His head was down, and he was very much not at a wedding. He wore street clothes, and there were three others with him.
“Hey!”
I turned, seeing who had spoken.
A big guy stood just inside the front door with a gun. A gun?! What the what? And he was seriously large. As I watched, another guy stepped around him, and he was like the dude, 2.0. They were both goliaths, and both with guns.
Holy exclamation point! What is going on here?
“Car.” Benjamin came toward me from the other room, looking me up and down. “What are you doing here? You’re clocked out for the night.”
My mouth was on the floor. I mean, my eyebrows and my heart were on the ceiling, but everything else had bottomed out. “Those guys have guns,” I whispered.
“I know.”
There was no shock on his face. He totally knew, which he’d just said. Right. I needed to catch up here. Then the door opened behind him, and holy mother of all Toledo, the most gorgeous guy came in. Tall. Dark hair. Some seriously luscious facial features. He was pretty and hot and dangerous, and he had guys with him who had guns. OMG!
He stepped around Benjamin, assessing me.
I could tell this dude was the shit. He was smart. Obviously had money if he had guys with guns at the ready, and well, I guess that meant he was dangerous, too. Why were they here? This wasn’t a Jason Bourne movie.
“Carson? Carson Dayley?” he asked.
I flushed. “Yes, and please don’t make a joke. It’s not my fault that dude got famous and I didn’t.”
His eyebrows moved together, but that was his only reaction. Maybe he didn’t know pop culture. Score for me, if he didn’t.
“My brother’s fiancée came in earlier,” he said. “She was murdered, and he was there. We’ve not had contact with her family as to whether they wanted him to see her with them. He wanted to say his goodbyes. That’s all.”
Right. But it was shady. No one who wasn’t shady had two guards with him, and these guys were the real deal. I could tell fake guns from real guns. My cousin Toby once had our other two cousins carry fake guns so he could get into a poker game. I’d never asked for details. I didn’t want to know. The fake guns alone gave me the heebie-jeebies.
“Ms. Dayley?”
Right. Focus. The hot dude seemed like he was waiting for me to give him the go-ahead.
Also, I needed to stop thinking the word ‘right.’
Then I remembered that Benjamin didn’t have the new set of keys. The locks had literally been installed today.
I shot him a look. “You dumbass. You faked the new tests so Milo would get me in here, didn’t you?”
“What? No. But I mean, it is karmic that you came in.” He pulled his keys out. “They don’t work.”
I huffed, already knowing what I was going to do. Who was I to stand in the way of a grieving fiancé?
I moved forward, and the hottie stepped aside. He hadn’t given his name. Pretty sure that was on purpose, but then I was into the next room and holy… I was having a full déjà vu moment because I was wrong. The hottie behind me wasn’t God’s gift to women. I mean, he was up there. Along with the blond, tousled hair and scowling face, and he had some dark energy around him. But he was just handsome. The other one, though?
The other one made me literally forget how to walk as he looked my way, but he wasn’t even looking at me. His eyes were empty.
He was—this was the fiancé.
I sucked in my breath. My stomach clenched, and it was as if I’d been bombarded by his agony, because I could see that’s what he was in. Pure torture. He was twisted up on the inside, but my God, he still took my breath away.
Tall. He had a young look to him. He looked like someone who would row crew.
The other two were tan. The blond was a little paler, but this one had either a warm tan or his skin was a lighter shade of brown. There was a darker undertone than the others’, and he had full lips with dark hair cut super short, a fade on the side. He was in a dark sweatshirt, the hood pulled up. For a moment his eyes flashed, flickering on and seeing me, but then he receded into memories and pain, and his gaze clouded over again.
My hands shook because I swear, I could feel his pain, and it was unbearable. “Excuse me,” I said softly, stepping forward and going around to her door.