Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“I think my arm is broken,” she says, her right arm dangling at her side.
“My God. Doll. I’m so sorry.”
The sirens grow louder as I hold her close to me, careful not to touch her injuries. I close my eyes, saying a prayer.
“You saved me, Troy,” she whispers in my ear. “I knew you would.”
I press a kiss on her head as the medics arrive. “I’d do anything for you.”
“I know.”
Her words settle into my psyche—her confidence in me. Her faith. Her love.
I may not be enough for Dahlia—she deserves the world—but no one will love her as much as me.
And that just might be enough.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dahlia
“Are you feeling okay?” Troy asks from beside me.
“Yeah. I feel like I was kidnapped and was then in a car accident. You know, just another day.”
He’s not entertained by my antics. The sour look on his face makes me laugh.
“I have to laugh about this, Troy. If not, a deep, dark hole is waiting to crush me. Oh, speaking of crashes, if I weren’t the one being thrown into the door with a maniac with a gun sitting beside me and a pizza guy in the trunk, that would’ve been really hot.”
He groans, looking at the ceiling of Jason Brewer’s plane.
“I can’t imagine what your forearms looked like controlling the car like that,” I say, licking my bottom lip. “And the way your face gets all linear when you’re focused. Maybe when I’m better, we can figure out how to replicate that without the broken humerus and concussion and various lacerations.”
“You’re going to pay for this.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
He looks at me through the corner of his eye and tries not to smile.
I rest my head on his non-broken humerus and yawn.
Thanks to the Landry connections, doctors saw me right away. I’m going to live, which I knew as soon as I saw Troy climb out of the car, although with a little less blood and a lot more inflammation.
“We need to make sure we send a sizable tip to the pizza guy when we get home,” I say. “Freddy told me he killed him. He really thought he was dead.”
“Already took care of it.”
I flinch. “You did?”
“Yeah, since the bastards wouldn’t let me go back with you for all the tests, I had time to process every fucking minute of that ordeal. Becca’s getting the contact information so I can take care of it this week.”
I lift my head and look at him curiously. “Becca, huh?”
He smirks.
I’m just screwing with him—he knows that. Becca is the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and Troy almost killed a man for me.
Lights twinkle on the ground below as we sail quietly through the night sky. Everything’s a bit more tonight. The stars are prettier. The cookies the stewardess served us when we got on board were sweeter. The guy next to me is more irresistible.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, stretching his legs out in front of him.
“Just that when we land, things will be different. There’s so much to figure out and navigate.”
“Like what?”
“How do I work with a broken arm? Will Ford even let me work after I broke protocol and answered the phone, which caused this whole damn thing? I’m also screwing my co-worker, and that’s probably against the handbook.”
He exhales. “Freddy didn’t track your phone. He had a tracker in your bag. He knew where we were the whole time.”
“What? Are you serious?” The thought of him watching us, sneaking around, preying on us for those days makes me ill. “How do you know?”
“People say things when they’re under duress.”
“Did you find it?”
“Grey did. It’s tech that’s not mainstream yet. It’s still in beta. I don’t know how in the hell he got it, but he did.” He pulls his phone out and opens his camera reel. “Here. I saved this for you while you were getting your X-ray.”
I take his phone and look at the picture.
Breaking News: All charges against Dallo dropped by prosecution.
I gasp. “What?”
“That’s what Ford was calling to tell us. Or a part of it, anyway.” He takes his phone and slips it back in his pocket. “The forensic accounting firm discovered money laundering and other things happening with Dallo Metalworks. But a few months ago, they arrested a bunch of cartel guys in Atlanta and got some of them to turn State’s evidence.” Troy yawns. “Turns out that your grandfather really was a bad apple, and two of his seeds were still working for your father. The CFO and CIO, I think. Your dad cooperated with them for weeks and helped them build their case. It’s a tangled web.”
My heart warms, either from the pain medication or because my father isn’t a con man. Maybe both.
“They got indicted last night,” he says, furrowing his brows. “Or tonight. Hell, I don’t know what time it is. We were in the marsh, and they were getting indicted.”