Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Physical attraction, developing feelings, strange yearnings, and my pounding heart aside, this is all. An. Agreement.
Whomp.
Okay, what the hell?
“Beau?”
The house is just as quiet as it was before the bumps. I’m not sure what he’s doing down there, but it’s Beau. I can trust him. He’s safe. He’ll keep the house safe. He’ll keep me—
Footsteps start up the stairs, and they sound extra heavy. Dragging a little. My stupid heart goes wild, and my lady bits? They practically spring out of my skin and go running to meet him, waving their hands in the air wildly like noodle arms, offering themselves up to him. Take us, please. We want to be taken. You alone can fulfill us. Or just fill us.
Wow, I officially need to go back to sleep. It’s too early to be awake. Two forty-eight in the morning apparently makes a person delirious.
Another heavy step and then shuffling feet. Beau must really be feeling the fall because he sounds like he’s literally dragging himself up, step by step, using only his front teeth. If anyone can do it, he can.
“Beau?” I shift out of bed and stand up. He probably needs help. I know he doesn’t want pity, but I also don’t need him to go end over end down the stairs and break his neck. “Beau, I’m coming to help you, and I don’t want to—oh my holy fucking asses!”
The lights flick on, and I blink hard into it. I must be hallucinating. This isn’t real. I’m dreaming all this, and at any second, I’m going to realize that, and then I’ll be doing that groggy, nasty thing where you know you’re dreaming, but you still can’t wake up. Like the pee thing. You know it’s not rational to have to pee every six seconds, and it can’t be that hard to find a bathroom, but then you force yourself awake and realize you’ve probably had to pee for hours.
This can’t be real because Beau—Beau is standing in front of Aiden, and Aiden’s arm is locked around his neck. They’re back to chest, and there’s a gun pressed to Beau’s temple.
My having a breakdown is going to help no one, but that’s immediately what I want to do. I want to turn into a liquified, blubbering, sobbing, screaming mess. I want to race for my phone and call the cops. I want to open the window and get out onto the roof. No, I’d like to open the window and toss Aiden out onto the roof and then call the cops.
But I don’t move because I want Beau to be safe. Why him? Why not me? I’m the one Aiden wants. I’m the one who deserves to be taken captive. Beau didn’t do anything in this. He just wanted to keep me safe. He wanted to help me.
He looks so fucking utterly calm that I nearly burst into tears just because he’s not afraid. Doesn’t he care about living at all?
Yes, he does.
His eyes track very slowly to my face, and I can see what an effort it’s taking as he forces himself to be casual. He doesn’t want me to get hurt, which is why he hasn’t twitched. He’s giving Aiden what he wants to protect me.
“We’re going to play a game,” Aiden says coldly from behind Beau. I can barely see him since Beau is so massive. I just see hands and a gun, and they look strangely disembodied.
“Is it guess what time it is?” Beau asks gruffly. “Because let me tell you, it’s obvious that it’s dick o’clock.”
“Shut up!” Aiden always did have a high voice, but it sounds so absurd next to Beau’s deep tenor. Why does Aiden sound like he’s the one in distress? He sounds annoyed. He sounds worked up.
Fuck. God. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I force myself to suck in some air and concentrate on Beau’s beautiful, stony, and perfectly calm face to keep myself from freaking out.
“This is the game.” Another octave. I wish I could see Aiden’s face. That way, I can judge how desperate he is. Everyone knows the most dangerous people are the ones with nothing to lose. “You’re going to confess to everything. I know your little boyfriend here’s been tracking me. You told him everything, and he thinks he can nail me for this. Well, wrong. You’re going down for it, Sam. You were always going to take the blame for this. So you’ll turn yourself in, and I’ll go somewhere that won’t extradite me, and everyone will live happily ever after.” The gun presses harder into Beau’s temple, and I can see the way the barrel digs into his skin. It makes me want to scream, to lunge at Aiden, to knock the weapon away.
“Alright.” I put up my hands. Can Aiden even see them? Because I can’t see his face. I can’t fucking see his face, and I need to. Beau’s eyes close. Then they open slowly like he’s silently begging me not to do this. “Alright, Aiden, that’s what we’ll do. I’ll go with you. You just have to let him go.” There’s no way I’m using Beau’s name. Aiden might already know it, but he also might not. He might be grasping at straws here. Afraid of his own shadow, running scared. He’s blaming me because that’s the most logical thing.