Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
They're going to make it, Thomas thought fiercely.
Those two were not like him. Drake and Kayra might have taken other people's lives like Thomas had, but that didn't make either of them evil. Those two were genuinely good people, and so they had to make it work.
They had to.
You did good, Tommy.
Thomas was lying awake in bed, and the clock outside his cell showed it was already a quarter past midnight when he heard her voice inside his mind.
And you're right about them, too, so stop worrying.
His eyes started to sting as he felt the warmth of his wife's presence wrap around him like an invisible embrace.
Do you really think so?
He knew he couldn't really be talking to his dead wife, but he would take what he could get, and if an imaginary voice was all he could have for now—-
Those two remind me of how we used to be, so yes, I do think they'll make it.
Candice was still Candice, and he would gladly talk to her, real or otherwise.
I miss you, Cands.
I miss you, too. And one day, we'll see each other again.
I hope so. God, I hope so. But the things I've done. The people I've killed. I've tried to make up for it in every way I could think of, but it never seems enough.
Oh, Tommy. You can be so silly at times. Shouldn't you know by now? It's not our good deeds that save us. Everything is because of God's grace.
I wish I can tell you I get it, Cands, but I'm a doctor, not a priest. I don't understand angel speak.
His wife laughed, and real or not real, it was still the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.
We'll see each other again, Tommy. Because that's our definition of what heaven is.
Chapter One
KAYRA: I've made up my mind. I'm going to meet up with someone from Strakh, and I'm telling you this in case I turn up missing or dead.
Bailey: You're kidding, right?
Bailey: RIGHT?
Kayra: No.
Bailey: Are you for real? He's STRAKH. You're MAFIA.
Kayra: I've already spoken to him on the phone.
Bailey: OMG, Theía.
Kayra: He sounded remarkably interesting.
Bailey: Of course he sounds interesting! He's being interesting to reel you in! He's being interesting because he plans to kill you!
Bailey: Theía!
Bailey: Hello? HELLO?
I READ MY NIECE'S TEXTS one last time before dropping my phone back into my pocket.
Still not gonna text back.
I appreciate Bailey's concern, but there are times when she really does forget I'm more monster than human, and not even someone from Strakh will find it easy to kill me.
And besides...
Thomas says this man I'm about to meet is my perfect match, and since even I have no idea what a 'perfect' match for someone like me even means—-
Monitor, monitor on the wall.
Who's the freakiest guy of them all?
I knead the muscles in my neck while watching people come and go on multiple screens. Greasing a couple of hands might have given me easy access to the security room, but the job does get tedious when you've been monitoring real-time security footage for over twenty-four hours.
Where are you, Boy?
I'm starting to get bleary-eyed, but it's just the price I have to pay, to make sure I see him first.
Come out, come out, wherever you—-SHIT.
I nearly destroy the Zoom button on the control board even though I know pounding on it repeatedly won't make the surveillance cameras work any faster.
It can't be. It just can't.
The lenses finally zoom in, and my eyes haven't fooled me after all.
Unfortunately.
Boy turns out to be tall, dark, and handsome. More like Ryan Reynolds in Underground Six than in Deadpool, and with the kind of build that can make even off-the-rack suits look like they've been hand-sewn for Milan Fashion Week.
Can being the operative word, since what he's actually wearing is a made-to-measure suit from Giorgio Armani.
I know this guy, and I know of him, and that's why—-
I don't get it.
How can a billionaire party boy like Drake Morrison be a member of Strakh?
I'm aware that he used to work for the FBI ages ago, but all he seems to do these days is host orgies and look good while having his photo taken by the paps. I'm tempted to call Thomas and ask if this is a prank, but my guts are never wrong, and so I know I'm not mistaken.
It's really him.
My so-called perfect match.
Now what?
Chapter Two
FANCY RESTAURANTS, horror movie nights, or wholesome meet-cutes at the park. These are some of the things that my friend's wife Tahey have recommended for my blind date, and they sound awfully tame for someone whose husband is the leader of Strakh.
The thought of forwarding such PG-rated suggestions is frankly bile-inducing, but since I'm no expert on romance—-
Dining car, 8AM train bound for West Palm Beach.
I was about to hit Send when an email from my mystery girl lands on my inbox, and its fortuitous timing saves my dignity from hanging itself.