Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1014(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 676(@300wpm)
Of course, I soon find a drugged undernourished person does not walk a ton of stairs easily, but I get it done. I’m about to exit to my floor, which is also my brother’s floor when my phone rings with Jax’s number. I lean on the wall and answer. “Jax?”
“Emma.” His voice is rough, affected. “Thank God, baby. You have no idea how worried I’ve been.”
“Jax,” I whisper, and just talking to him is like coming home. “You didn’t think I left on my own, right?”
“No. I never thought that. I knew better. I knew we were—are—”
“We are,” I say. “We so are.”
“Yes, baby, we are. Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m weak, and I’m shaken, but I’m in fight mode, too. Are you here?”
“Five minutes from your offices. Wait on me.”
“I can’t do that. He won’t talk to me and tell me the truth if you’re here. Wait for me downstairs. Text me when you get here and tell me where to find you.”
“Emma—”
“I have to talk to my brother on my own.” It kills me, but I disconnect the line, shove the phone in my purse and open the stairwell door.
Chapter one hundred thirteen
Emma
Icharge down the hallway toward my brother’s office, only to discover Randall walking in my direction, his expensive suit fitted to perfection and screaming money. That’s his intent, too. He’s arrogant. He’s an asshole.
“Emma,” he greets, and as if proving my point about him being an arrogant asshole, he adds, “I knew you disappearing was a stunt. Glad to see you came to your senses and got your ass back home.”
That’s it. He’s pushed me over the edge. I close the space between us, and I don’t stop until he’s within reach at which point I slap him in the face. “What the fuck?!” he growls, and when I attempt to repeat that slap, he catches my wrist. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I know it was you,” I hiss. “I know what you did.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit. You know.”
“What is going on here?”
At the sound of my brother’s voice, Randall grimaces. I, on the other hand, gloat because we both know he’s about to let go of my arm so I can slap him again. As if proving my point, yet again, Chance steps to our sides. “Why the fuck are you touching my sister, Randall?” he demands.
“She slapped the shit out of me,” he snaps. “I’m protecting myself.”
“You will not be here when I’m done with you, Randall,” I promise. “You are done. You are gone.”
“Emma,” Chance warns. “You want to come and talk to me?”
His tone is non-confrontational, the snake charmer I used to call my “brother” trying to lure me in for the bite. I cut him a glare. “More like I want to hit you, too, brother.”
“Okay,” he says. “Hit me then. Just don’t hit Randall.”
I shift my glare back to Randall, fighting the absolute need to do just that and hit him again. “Let me go, Randall,” I order tightly, my words so brittle they almost crack falling from my lips.
“If you hit me again, Emma,” he warns. “I will not be responsible for what I do.” He lets go of me.
Chance catches my arm and tugs me away from Randall. “Thank God, you’re okay,” he murmurs, shocking me as he embraces me in a bear hug, despite the very public hallway, and whispers in my ear, “Jax called. I’ve been worried sick. You scared the hell out of me.”
“I don’t believe you,” I hiss, bitterness in my words and hurt in my belly.
He inches back to look at me, something that resembles pain in his blue eyes, his voice low, for my ears only. “That’s how it is now? He’s turned you against me?”
“He didn’t. You did.”
His lips press together, anger, a sharp whip in his stare, replacing the pain. I know his anger when I see it. I know his moods. Just like I know he too wears an expensive suit, his choice, a gray pinstripe Armani, which I know because he loves Armani. I thought I knew everything about him. But now, I’m not sure I know anything about him at all. “My office,” he orders softly.
There’s something else I know about Chance, that I can now confirm as accurate. How good he is at giving orders. “Yes,” I agree. “Let’s go to your office.” I push out of his hold and walk around him, not stopping until I enter his office. Once there, in the center of the room, I whirl around to watch him join me and shut the door.
“What the hell was that Emma?” he demands, walking around his desk to lean on it and judge me. “You do know that he can sue us.”
“Out there, it was: I was worried about you, Emma. Now, it’s: he can sue us? I was kidnapped by a man in a mask and woke up in my own bed naked. This, after Randall threatened me, which we both know was at your direction.”