Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
I shook my head, unable to answer my own question. I had no idea what I expected, but I never imagined I’d wake up alone.
Blindly, I reached along the bathroom wall, feeling for the light switch. I hit it, and soft light poured over the room. I grinned as I went to the sink to wash my hands and splash some water on my face to fully snap awake.
There, in red lipstick, was a message scrawled across the bathroom mirror:
See you tonight, handsome!
Underneath, it appeared that Tori had leaned in and pressed her lips to the glass. A perfect kiss-print. I knew I’d be thinking about those damn lips all day.
With a heavy sigh, I waded through my mixed-up thoughts and emotions. Seeing Tori at Parkston’s had about done me in. After last night, having her in my arms, in my bed, again—there was no way I could go back to life without her. But, at the same time, I had no idea how this deal with Dalton would go down. I couldn’t risk her safety.
Tori was in enough danger as it was, and I had to protect her no matter what—and get the goods passed off to Dalton. Which would hopefully be sooner rather than later. Richie hadn’t been specific about a date to pick up his new merchandise.
And that could be a big fuckin’ problem. They could keep me on the hook for a while if they wanted to. I needed to come up with another move to get the ball rolling. I also needed to keep Tori as far away from Richie Dalton and the Sanderson crew as possible. Another problem.
So far, I hadn’t seen her enter the private room or interact with them, but I remembered his familiarity with the owners and the other bartender. There was a fair chance he’d interacted with Tori—or as he would know her, Avery—before. I needed to limit their interactions, and I sure as hell couldn’t show any sign of familiarity to her. If things went sideways, Richie could use her as a bargaining chip to manipulate me if he knew the nature of our relationship or the depths of my feelings for her.
I wasn’t about to let that happen. As long as I was alive—Dalton would never touch her.
A buzz jolted me from my musings, and I bolted back to my bedside table to retrieve my phone. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it in time, and the call was sent to voicemail. It was a blocked number, but I knew who it’d be. A minute later, the screen lit up to notify me of a voicemail message. I dialed into the secure, encrypted box and pressed the phone to my ear.
Sure enough, it was Richie.
“Starr. Be at the club tonight. We have things to discuss.”
Click.
I cringed. That didn’t sound good. What kind of things? He wasn’t gonna pussy out of the deal, was he? I’d beat his ass. Well, technically, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything but blow smoke up his ass, polish his shoes, and puff up his ego until he walked into that warehouse and took possession of the weapons.
Then it was game fuckin’ on.
After that, the feds could follow the guns and take down Richie, the family, and the entire fucking network. My job was done. I’d move onto my next assignment. Which, more than likely, would not be in Los Angeles. But Tori—or Avery as she’s called now—would be by my side. The fact that we’d met again, after a year and a whole lotta shit between us, was a miracle in and of itself. I wasn’t going to get that lucky again. I wouldn’t ever let her out of my sight again.
“Damn it,” I growled, jumping up from my seat at the table. “Such a fuckin’ mess.”
I paced the hotel room, raking my hands through my overgrown hair, dying to shave it all down to my standard, close-cropped look. I hated having a beard, and I hated long hair even more. I was ready to get back to being Bennett. Bennett fucking Marshon—and I wanted to be Bennett with Tori.
The clock above the kitchenette showed it was nearing two o’clock. I needed to get in a workout and get some food in my system before I made my next move. Gym, lunch, long walk to clear my head, and then it would be time to go back to Parkston’s.
The club was hopping. A live performance was taking place in the middle of the dance floor. A platform acted as a stage. A woman in head-to-toe leather was stalking between two men who were both stripped to leather briefs. In the few minutes I’d watched, I gathered she was a dominatrix, and the two men acted as her subs. I lost interest fairly quickly and glanced through the crowd to scan the bar on the other side of the club.