Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“Stay put,” he orders.
“But-” I go to protest but shut my mouth when he levels me with a stare. This one is different from all the others. It doesn’t scare me for some reason, but I also know this isn’t the time to push back. I sit still. He slips out of the car, telling the driver to stay put and make sure nothing happens to me. The driver doesn’t look like he wants to listen, but he does as he’s told.
Leone pulls a gun out before entering into my trailer.
Time drags by so slowly. “You should go check on him,” I tell the driver man, starting to worry. What if he gets hurt? Leone has already saved my life once tonight.
“I have my orders” is his only response.
The second I see Leone step back out the front door, I’m out of the vehicle and running toward him. Without thinking, I throw myself at him. He catches me.
“I told you to stay in the car,” he growls at me.
“You’re okay?” I ask, ignoring his words. His face softens a fraction.
“I’m fine, but your place has been ransacked. I need to get you out of here.” He starts to carry me back toward the car.
“My cat. We can’t leave Bentley.”
“I didn’t see a cat. He must have gotten out.”
I wiggle, trying to get free of Leone’s hold. I know my Bentley is just hiding somewhere. He has to be.
“He doesn’t run away,” I protest. “Please!” I grab Leone’s face with both my hands. “I’ll come with you willingly if we can get Bentley.”
“No more fighting me?” He lifts one of his eyebrows in question.
“No more fighting,” I agree. A smile slides across his face, making me think I fell right into his trap. Not surprising. I always get caught. This time, I’m just not sure what really has a hold on me. Who is Leone, after all?
5
LEONE
She whispers to her cat, who’s cuddled in her lap while giving me the evil eye. “Everything’s okay. It was smart for you to hide. I’m so glad you weren’t hurt.” She kisses his head, his yellow eyes still fixed on mine. She turns to me, her mouth in a warm smile. “I told you he was hiding.”
I suppose she was right. All she had to do was pop up the steps of the decrepit trailer, and the cat came running from whatever hole it had shoved itself into. After all, Bentley is a rather large creature.
“Where did you find him?”
She smiles even bigger, as if talking about Bentley is the key to her heart. I file away that tidbit of information.
“We used to live in an apartment complex.” She wrinkles her nose. “It was far worse than the trailer park. Anyway, we had an old, mean neighbor. Bentley was his cat. I’d see him peeking out the door at me sometimes when Mr. Posey would crack it open to glare at my sister and me.”
The cat curls up in her lap and rests his chin on his paws but still doesn’t take his gaze from me. I look right back at him, refusing to blink until he does. No one gets over on me, not even a cat.
“Anyway, after a while, Mr. Posey stopped opening the door.” She grimaces. “And then there was a smell.” She scratches behind his ears. “The health department said Bentley should be put down because he’d … you know…” She stops scratching. “Well, he did what he had to do to survive.”
“So now he has the taste for human blood, is that right?”
“No.” She resumes petting him. “He’s a good boy.”
I get the feeling that Bentley is a “good boy” in much the same way I’m a “good man”—as in, not at all.
“You live here?” Zoey stares through the front windshield as we arrive at the gates to my home, the top of them decorated with two snarling lions.
“Yes.” The guards open the gates for us, and we cruise easily along the narrow drive.
“This whole place is yours?” She turns to stare at the trees and the small pond to our left as we curve up the hill toward the house.
“Yes.”
“You must be like a bazillionaire or something. I mean, Bentley and I could take just a little corner of this place and make a little home.”
“That won’t be necessary. You’re both welcome in my home.”
“For how long?” Her cheeks color a bright pink as we pull to a stop in front of the house. “I mean, not that I … Not that I think I should stay or anything. I don’t even know you. If I’m being honest, I should go back to the trailer and wait for my sis–”
“No.” I say it more forcefully than I intend because her eyes snap to mine. Doing my best to soften my tone, I continue, “It’s not safe. Someone had been there, and I assure you the ransacking was the least of what they could’ve done.”