Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 562(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
“I’m sure everyone does,” I hissed. “The bastard’s corrupt. They invented the term dirty cop for him.”
Cairo snapped me to his chest, stopping us short in the middle of the union. “That’s a serious accusation, Rain.”
My stomach fluttered at my name in his mouth. I could despise him. I could hate the bits of him that reminded me of his father, but I’d never be able to control my response to the way his lips formed my nickname in that deep, throaty voice.
“It’s not an accusation if it’s true, Sharpe.”
“Have proof to back it up?”
“Would it surprise you that I do?” My lips pulled back from my teeth—just talking about the man would do that. “But who would I give it to? Who is going to believe me?”
A grin broke out on his face, startling me. “I just might. I’d be very interested to see this proof of yours, Rain. Bring it by my place tonight.”
My jaw worked. “I— I— No,” I cried. “I’m not giving it to you so you can warn him—”
Cairo gripped my chin, snapping it up. My eyes popped as he swiped his tongue across my lips.
“Hmm. Cinnamon sugar. My favorite. I might’ve been wrong about you—something I don’t say often. It’s looking like I’ll keep you after all.”
I get to keep you.
Cairo released me and walked off. “My place. Tonight,” Cairo tossed over his shoulder. “Don’t make me come and find you.”
I stood for a full minute, staring at the spot he disappeared. Hand shaking, I touched my lips.
He can’t be. Dear Lord, it can’t be him.
I ran.
Ran out of the student union, down the causeway, and out onto the lawn. Fire ants crawled beneath my skin, setting my body on fire like he did last night. The Letter Man?
No. No, no, no! My mind rebelled. His favorite bagel worked its way up my throat.
I couldn’t have kissed him. Let him touch me. Perched on his lap like the queen to his king. Cairo Sharpe wasn’t him, and there was nothing more important than proving it.
I raced to the other side of campus, slowing only when the stone structure broke through the trees. Stumbling to a stop, I doubled over before the memorial, sucking in ragged breaths that burned my throat.
This was it. It has to be it!
Gripping the stone plinth, I studied every inch.
In memory of Douglas Herbert.
Your smile rivaled the sun.
Your laugh touched our lives.
Gone but never forgotten.
Douglas Herbert died two years ago. One night, he skidded off the road and wrapped around a tree. The accident crushed the hood, pinning his leg under the steering wheel. Douglas was on his way to a solo camping trip, so no one knew what happened till a random motorist noticed his car off the road two days later. I didn’t know Douglas personally, but everyone in town heard of the tragedy.
But how am I supposed to know—
I circled it and stopped. At the base of the plinth, so small you might’ve missed it, a painted kookaburra took flight.
***
I did not go to see Cairo that night, so when I glimpsed him on campus Friday morning, I backpedaled and went the other way. The man was not versed in empty threats. He said he would track me down, and Hera help me, he was trying.
Cairo ordered his sister to give him my number and address. Thankfully, she was the single person on this planet who didn’t fall at his feet. She refused, so he worked his way down the line of Amy, Presley, and finally Zara, who told him I lived on a farm. A dead end that resulted in his stealing Paris’s phone and getting my number.
For the past five days, I’d been treated to a string of threatening and curiously sexual messages. At the start of the voice mail, he was promising I’d be punished for every day I made him wait, and by the end of it, he was telling me in graphic detail how he’d dip me in cinnamon sugar and lick me clean.
As fucked up as it was, my refusal to give in to him was both pissing him off and turning him on. It’s obvious no one had said no to him in a long time. That didn’t stop him showing me why.
By Wednesday, he had his minions tracking me down. Alfie ran up to me in the student union under the guise of apologizing for the party. He spent ten minutes waffling and stealing glances at the entrance before I caught on.
I dumped my iced mocha on his crotch on the way out the door. Another thing I wouldn’t have done a lifetime ago, but everything was different now.
That morning, I walked on campus figuring Cairo and his friends would be too busy to worry about me.
“Whoo!”
A red streak shot past me, gifting me his hot breath in my face and the full X-rated view of his half-erect penis flapping in the breeze. Then five more of his buddies came running to do the same.