Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Maurice reaches into his pocket, and the line goes dead. When I try again, the call goes directly to voicemail.
“Who are you trying to call?” Cami asks, her eyes darting between the TV and me. “What’s wrong?”
Christ. There’s no time.
My heartbeat speeds up, and trying to get Cami away from the TV in case the fucking assassination happens while the cameras are on Maurice, I say, “Get me a glass of water, please.”
She frowns at me, and as she stands up, her eyes flick to the TV screen.
I hear the distinct sound of a gunshot and dart forward. The cameras swing to the side of the stage as I grab hold of Cami.
A commotion breaks out in the crowd, and the announcer shouts, “A shot’s been fired!”
I press Cami’s face to my chest and feel how the shock trembles through her body.
“Senator Maurice DuBois has been shot,” the announcer cries. “Oh, my God! Someone just fired a shot out of the crowd. It’s absolute pandemonium.”
Maurice, you dumb fuck. You should’ve answered your phone!
Keeping hold of Cami, who’s frozen against my chest, I reach for the remote and switch off the TV.
“No,” she whispers.
I force her to sit down and crouch in front of her. Framing her face with my hands, I see horror warring with disbelief. She pulls away from me, and starts to shake her head.
“What happened?” she gasps. Her eyes connect with mine, and her features tighten with anguish as the horror darkens her irises. “No. Don’t look at me like that.” She starts to shake her head. “No, this isn’t happening. It’s a mistake.”
I move to sit next to her, and wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pull her to my chest.
Her body shudders, then she asks, “What just happened?”
“Your father was shot,” I tell Cami, not sugar-coating it.
“No,” she gasps again, and it looks like she’s still struggling to accept the fact.
“I’m so fucking sorry.” I press a kiss to her hair. “Let me make a call and see what I can find out.”
Maybe he was lucky, and the shot didn’t kill him.
A breath shudders through her, then she whimpers, “Please. Maybe he’s okay.”
I quickly dial St. Monarch’s number, and when Director Koslov answers, I ask, “Is it a confirmed kill?”
“Yes.”
“Christ,” I mutter just as another call beeps in my ear. “Thank you.”
I end the call with Director Koslov and answer the one from Nikolai, “Yes?”
“I just got the news Maurice DuBois was assassinated.”
“I have to call you later. Cami needs me.”
“Okay.”
I end the call and drop my phone on the coffee table. Cami’s eyes are frozen in horror and glued to me as if I have the power to make this situation better.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s a confirmed kill.”
Her features tighten with anguish as she tries to breathe through the blow.
I engulf her in my arms and press kisses to her hair and temple. “I’m so fucking sorry. I tried to call him, but he switched off his phone.”
“No,” she whimpers, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. She keeps shaking her head, the shock clearly too much for her to process.
Suddenly a heartbreaking sound tears from her, and she slumps against me. My fucking heart breaks for her as she weeps uncontrollably.
“I’ve got you, baby. I wish I could take this pain from you,” I say, trying to comfort her the only way I know how.
It takes close to thirty minutes before she manages to calm down and process the initial shock.
When she pulls her face away from my chest, a weird calmness settles over her features.
“I don’t know what to do,” she murmurs, her tone emotionless. “I guess I should call someone… who?”
“No.” I frame her face, and using my thumbs, I try to wipe some of her tears away. “I’ll handle everything.”
Slowly she shakes her head again, looking lost and dazed. “But, what do I do?”
“Nothing, baby. You leave everything to me and just…deal with what happened.”
“How?” The word is squeezed from her throat before a fresh wave of tears overwhelms her.
I hold her again, and brushing my hand up and down her back, I say, “Just cry, baby. Let it all out.”
“Max,” she groans, the raw grief making her voice hoarse. “I can’t lose my father. He’s all I have.”
No. You have me, as well.
“I’m here,” I say with the promise that I’ll never leave, darkening my tone. “You’re not alone. You have me. I’ll help you through this.”
My words don’t seem to get through to her as she weeps hysterically, “He can’t be gone. Why? Why did they kill him? No, he’s not gone.”
All I can do right now is hold her as she breaks down.
“I’ve got you, Cami,” I keep repeating.
And I’ll never let go.
Chapter 28
Cami
I can’t believe Papa’s dead.
My eyes feel swollen, and my lips are dry from all the crying.