Knocked Up by the Killer Read online B.B. Hamel

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
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“Elise,” Dad said. “You can’t get—”

I dropped down into the gap. I felt my leg scrape against concrete and wood. I groaned and began to shuffle sideways, a little at a time, heading to the left.

“Elise!” Dad shouted.

But I just ignored him. I kept going, got caught on nails, had to tug my sweatshirt free. It ripped in two places and I stifled a sob before I reached the end and stumble out onto a busy street.

A man in cargo shorts and a polo shirt with a phone shoved against his ear looked at me like I just fell from the sky.

I shoved my hands in my pocket and walked. I kept my head down and moved as fast as I could. I couldn’t think, just felt my head spinning.

My father would never leave the city. And I would never let him help me.

That meant I had no other choice.

I had to run.

My mind ticked through all my belongings. I could fill a suitcase with the necessities. I had some money in my bank account. I could get a train and take it as far away as I could. Then from there I could find a bus or a plane and go somewhere else. I’d pay cash everywhere and keep my phone turned off.

Hell, I’ll throw my phone down a ditch and buy a burner.

I had to disappear. That was my only chance.

I reached my block and was mentally calculating exactly what I could bring with me when I walked past a familiar old black Lexus.

I slowed and stopped then stared at the car. I felt my heart hammer.

He was back to finish the job.

I turned around toward my apartment building and slowly looked up.

Tanner smiled at me. He leaned back on his elbows in the middle of my stoop. He wore a tight black t-shirt and a pair of fitted jeans. His brown boots were scuffed and dirty. He looked gorgeous and sickening all at once.

“Hey,” he said. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So I figured I might as well make sure you don’t get yourself killed.”

I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out.

5

Tanner

I led her up to her apartment and slammed her door shut. I slid the chain into place then turned to stare at her.

She backed up, bumped against the kitchen table, then felt for a chain. She slumped into it and put her hands over her face.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “Am I dreaming right now?”

“Not a dream,” I said. “But I’m flattered.”

“Nightmare, then.”

“Wet dream, maybe.”

“You’re gross.” She dropped her hands. “Seriously Tanner. What are you doing here?”

I shrugged and leaned against the wall. I watched her and tried to think up an answer that wouldn’t make me sound insane.

Probably too late for that, anyway.

“I decided I don’t want you to die.”

“Gee, thanks,” she said.

“I’m serious,” I said. “Do you have any clue how much danger you’re in right now?”

She chewed on a fingernail and stared. “I went to my dad,” she said.

I arched an eyebrow. “Really? You seemed pretty against that.”

“I’m desperate, I guess.”

“That’s good then. He’s going to send guys, right?”

“Wrong.” She dropped her hand into her lap. “I told him to leave the city. Also to fuck himself.”

I barked a laugh. “You’re kidding me?”

“I’m not kidding you.”

“Damn. You know what kind of guy your dad is, right?”

“A guy like you,” she said.

I spread my hands out. “Fair enough,” I said. “So you probably shouldn’t tell him to go fuck himself.”

“He’s my dad. He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“That’s not a good assumption to make.”

She glared at me and I could see the frustration building. “It doesn’t matter,” she said. “He’s not going to help me, okay?”

“Okay,” I said, nodding. “Okay, I get it.”

“So he just let me leave there. And now I’m going to get murdered.”

“Not necessarily.”

She abruptly stood up and stomped into the kitchen. She threw open the refrigerator and took out a bottle of wine. A painting on the wall rattled when she slammed the refrigerator shut.

I watched her open the bottle, fill a glass to the brim, then drink half it down.

“Please don’t get drunk,” I said.

“What do you care?” She sloshed the glass toward me. “You can just leave. You’re not the one that’s going to get murdered.”

“You’re going to be hard to deal with if you get drunk.”

“Tanner—”

“Please,” I said.

She stared at me. I walked over to her and she took a step away from me, her back up against the counter. I reached out and touched her fingers, pulling the glass toward me. She snarled like an angry dog but I peeled her fingers back and took the glass from her.

“Asshole,” she said.

I stayed standing close, my body inches from hers. “I know this is hard,” I said. “But getting wasted won’t help. Trust me on that one.”


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