Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Cursing, I cut a glance toward Wimpy, who is still unconscious, but appears to be breathing. Deciding that gently removing this asshole from danger isn’t worth putting Nora at risk for one more second, I curl my knees into my chest and shove his limp, but very heavy body, off the hood.
As soon as he starts to fall, I turn and slide off the other side of the truck. My feet hit the asphalt, and I stumble, but find my balance a second later. I’m on my way to drag Nora out of danger—and kiss her and promise her I’m never going to let anyone even think about hurting her again—when something heavy lands on me from behind, knocking me flat.
I hear, “That’s what you get, traitor,” and then misery slams into my skull, making lights flash behind my eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
NORA
Cursing our failing public school systems and the patriarchy and Cassie Ann Sweetwater for employing stone-cold idiots and everything else that could have possibly contributed to creating Rex and Wimpy, I snatch the fire extinguisher off the ground with a growl.
I slosh through several inches of water, past the flaming engine that’s probably going to explode and send pieces of me and the man I love splattering all over the place before I’ve even had the chance to hear him say he loves me more than once.
When I reach where Rex is punching Matty in the back of the head like the dirty-fighting jerk he is, I shout, “Stop being a dick!”
When Rex turns my way, I swing the canister, striking him on the side of the head hard enough to send him falling off Matty with a groan.
But he’s not unconscious, just stunned. After a moment or two, he staggers to his feet, reeling toward us as Matty pushes himself up onto his hands and knees.
“May I?” Matty asks, reaching for the fire extinguisher.
“Please, do,” I say, releasing it.
A beat later, he’s in motion, spiraling up from the ground as he swings the bright red tube up between Rex’s legs so hard, even I wince on impact, and I have no idea what being punched in the nuts feels like.
But clearly, it’s no fun. Rex emits a strangled, “Fucking shit,” and his eyes go comically wide before he sags slowly back to the ground, clutching his wounded family jewels.
Before his knees make impact, Matty has my hand, and we’re running through the rain toward his SUV as a flock of black vehicles with tinted windows peel around the side of the warehouse.
“The CIA?” I shout as we near the vehicle.
“The FBI,” Matty says over his shoulder. “Rex and Wimpy crossed state lines with people this time. A lot easier to get action on a human kidnapping than a feline one.”
I start to smile, but then I remember Bear and the kitties and try to turn back. Thanks to the torrential downpour, however, I don’t stop, I simply go sliding along on my heels in the water as Matty pulls me the last few inches to the still-running SUV.
He must have jumped out without even bothering to shut off the engine.
I crash into him with an, “oof,” and wrap my arms around his neck when he turns to steady me. “Bear was hurt when the door flew off the hinges,” I say, holding onto him after I have my balance. He feels too good to let him go a second before I absolutely have to. “I think his kneecap might be shattered. He’s in the hallway with Clyde and the kittens. Luckily, they weren’t hurt. I was holding them when the truck hit, and we were back far enough away from the door to be safe.”
Matty nods, hugging me tight. “Stay here, I’ll go tell them. Don’t move. I don’t want you anywhere near that truck until we know it’s not going to blow.”
“Promise me,” I say, clinging to his neck for another beat. “You, too. Promise me. Nowhere near the truck. I need to hear you tell me you love me again.”
His expression softening, he says, “I love you. I’ve loved you since I helped you off that kissing booth at the Ren Faire, and you told me I was your hero.”
“You are my hero,” I say. “And I’m yours.”
“You sure are.” He bends, pressing a kiss to my forehead before he whispers, “Now get in the car and warm up. You feel like a Nora-shaped ice sculpture.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” I say, reaching for the passenger’s side door. Now that the adrenaline rush is starting to fade, my body is doing its best to remind me how cold I am.
Inside the car, I turn the heat up all the way and huddle in front of it, but it barely takes the edge off. What I really need is a hot shower, some dry clothes, and Matty on top of me—preferably naked.