Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
‘It’s nothing,’ she whispers.
Nothing? I hope Knight is burning in hell. ‘You just gonna leave me here to die?’ I rip my stare away and realign my focus on Hannah.
She snaps out of her inertness quickly, now completely panicked, and rushes around Jarrad’s dead body to me on shaky legs.
Dropping to her knees, she scans me up and down, her hands held up in front of her, trembling. ‘Oh my God.’ Those shaking hands go to her face and cover it. ‘Please don’t die,’ she begs. ‘Please.’
I grab her wrist, yanking her hands down. ‘I’m not going to die.’
‘But you said—’
‘I’m not going to die,’ I reiterate firmly.
‘How do you know?’ She takes another peek at the blood on my jeans, shaking her head mindlessly.
‘If the bullet had hit anything fatal, I’d be dead by now.’ I grab her hands and put them over my wound, pushing them in hard. ‘Fuck,’ I breathe, blinking back the stars. ‘Just keep the pressure there.’ I feel my way to my pocket and pull out my phone.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Calling for help.’
‘Oh my God, they’re going to lock you up. And me!’
‘We’re going nowhere,’ I say with grit, putting the phone to my ear. Lucinda’s hello is calm. Unruffled. ‘I can’t promise no marks,’ I say coolly, and she sighs. I imagine her forehead meeting her antique desk, rolling from side to side. ‘It was him or me, Luce.’ I flinch, sucking in air through my teeth as a nasty stab of pain shoots through my thigh.
‘You’re hurt,’ she says in response. ‘How bad?’
‘I need medical attention, I know that much.’ I smile mildly when Hannah looks at me like I’m mad. And she looks mad, her lips straightening.
‘How much attention?’ Lucinda asks, trying to get a feel for what she’s faced with.
‘Enough to help dig a bullet out of my thigh.’
‘Oh, fucking hell.’
‘I’ll live.’
‘And Knight? How bad?’
I drop my head to the side, looking at the malevolent motherfucker. ‘Suicide definitely isn’t gonna wash.’
‘For the love of God,’ she yells. ‘I told you, make it clean!’
‘Like I said, him or me. Are you going to help me or not?’
‘Jesus, Ryan, this will be the end of us.’
I hear her, loud and clear. I know what I’m asking. ‘I can do it on my own, Luce, but it’ll take me a lot fucking longer without your help.’
She’s silent for a few beats, probably staring at her laptop in despair. ‘What do you need?’ I hear her tapping away at the keyboard before she finishes speaking.
‘A doctor, first and foremost. I’ll send you the address of my cabin. I should be able to make it back there.’ I ignore Hannah’s incredulous glare. ‘I need a cleanup. Discreet.’
‘Discreet?’ Lucinda parrots. ‘No, I’ll send them in with foghorns and carnival music. Fuck me, I’m gonna have to call in every fucking favour owed to me for crimes gone by.’
I smile. Good old Luce. ‘Knight’s Mitsubishi is here. I want concealed transportation to get it to his castle in Scotland.’
Hannah releases some pressure from my leg, and I force it back down, seeing it all slowly sinking in.
‘There are paintings by Hannah Bright hung somewhere in that castle. I don’t know what rooms. There are three. Get rid of them.’
‘Anything else?’ she fires sarcastically.
‘Yes, a few kilos of cocaine.’ The pressure on my thigh lightens again, and I slam it down, giving Hannah a warning look.
‘Piece of cake,’ she mutters. ‘For fuck’s sake.’
‘Oh, and my truck’s totally mangled. It needs to be destroyed,’ I add, and she groans. ‘I’ll never give you a headache ever again, Luce.’
‘This isn’t a headache, Ryan,’ she mutters. ‘This is a fucking brain tumor. And you don’t damn well work for me anymore.’
‘I’ll send you the coordinates of our location.’
She sighs, and it’s weary. ‘Okay.’
‘Thanks, Luce.’ My voice is quiet but loaded with appreciation.
‘No sweat. I’m looking on the bright side.’
‘There’s a bright side?’
‘Yeah. I might lose all the favours I’m owed from every bent spy, cop, and politician I’ve ever scraped out from the shit, but at least I’ll be owed by you.’
I laugh, and immediately wince. ‘Shit.’
‘Get back to your cabin and sit tight,’ she murmurs, sounding concerned again. ‘There’s no chance of the carnage you’ve caused being found before we get there?’
I look around, seeing nothing but trees and overgrowth. Hear nothing but wildlife. ‘We’re a few miles outside town. Population zero for at least a four-mile radius.’
‘I’ll have a cleanup team there by nightfall.’ She hangs up, and my hand flops to the ground, exhaustion sweeping in. But I can’t flake out yet.
‘The paintings,’ Hannah mumbles. ‘It really was him buying them.’
I nod.
‘I wasn’t losing my mind.’ She swallows. ‘He’s been tormenting me.’ She looks across to his dead body, a wave of anger crossing her pretty face, hardening it. ‘He’s been fucking with my head.’