Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55220 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
She starts to move away and I don’t mean to, but I catch her arm and pull her around to me. But I don’t say anything. I don’t kiss her again, but I sure as hell want to do that and more.
“Luke?” she prods softly when I say nothing.
“We’ll stay through morning. We can talk about what comes next after Savage and Adam get here.”
“Right. Okay.”
Still, I don’t release her, but I have to. I know I have to. My hand eases from her arm. Her eyes find mine, gorgeous eyes, eyes that have always told a story, and they did the night she shot me. She was hurting. She was filled with rage and anger.
Now, they’re filled with regret, guilt, pain. The problem is none of those things change anything for either of us. Ana turns away from me and I let her go. But damn it, I don’t want to.
Chapter Thirty-Two
ANA
I leave Luke standing in the kitchen and walk toward the dark wood staircase. I can feel his eyes on me. There is so much between us undone, unfinished, just plain not right, and so much I need to share with him, but just the idea of telling him what I now know about my brother feels like fuel to feed an explosion.
For now, I just need to get away and think, but I’m not sure if I should go up or down, since the house seems to be on several levels. I decide up is the most logical for bedrooms and after inspecting my room choices, soon I’m inside a fancy suite with mountain views and a full master bath that matches another room exactly. Inside the closet, I find clothes that seem as if they will work for me. What I don’t have is a phone or a computer, and I really, really need to do some research.
Needing to feel in control, ready to run, to move, to fight, I head to the closet, kick off my boots and remove my jacket and weapon. I try on clothes and pack a week’s worth of clothing before I head to the bathroom where I find a cabinet with a remarkable supply of toiletries, a flat iron, and a hairdryer. There are extras of everything. My God, Walker Security really is prepared for anything. I can only imagine what the weapons room looks like.
I’ve been in my room an hour and I can’t stay here any longer. My stomach growls and I decide I’ll hunt for food.
I pull my boots back on and slide my holster and weapon into place before I exit my room. The house is quiet, so very quiet, and I wonder if Luke is in one of what must be seven or so bedrooms sleeping, which is probably what I should be doing right now. I hurry downstairs to the kitchen, a little disappointed that I’m right and Luke is not present. After a little inspection of the pantry, I find boxes of mac n cheese. There’s no milk or butter, but there are Ro-tel tomatoes. A little trick I discovered years ago is that a box of mac n cheese and Ro-tel whip up into a tasty meal.
Certain Adam and Savage will be here soon, and Luke has to be hungry, I put on the water in an extra-large pan, and proceed to cook a meal for an army. About the time the food is ready, the garage doors open, and when I would reach for my weapon for good measure, Savage’s distinct cackle fills the air and I relax. I don’t know what he thinks is funny, but anyone within ten miles probably does, too.
I grab several bowls, and as soon as Savage and Adam are in view, they’re dumping their bags in the living room.
“Hi, honey, we’re home,” Savage says, stepping to the other side of the island. “What smells so good, chickadee?”
It’s now, when I’m not fighting for my life, that I realize how tall and broad the man truly is. He’s a beast. I’m not sure I made enough food.
“Spicy mac n cheese. Want a bowl?”
“I could eat the pan right now,” he says, “but I’ll take a bowl.”
Adam steps to his side, and he’s not all that much smaller, but there is a calmer demeanor about him. “Where’s Lucifer?”
“You didn’t kill him and bury the body this time, right?” Savage asks, accepting a bowl from me.
The joke, which isn’t really that much of a joke, cuts. “Yes, I killed him and then made mac n cheese. That’s how much of a bitch I am.” I fill two bowls and slide one in front of Adam before offering them both forks and spoons, not sure which they will pick.
Adam’s a fork guy. Savage is a spoon guy. I’m not surprised with Savage. I get the shovel it in and get back to killing kind of guy vibe from him.