Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91064 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Storm and I walk to the bar, and my eyes bounce around the room while we wait for our drinks. There are a lot of drunken rich pricks here, but none of them are Quinn and Duke.
“Where are these clowns?” Storm asks.
“I don’t know.”
We drink and dance with a couple of guys who ask us before Rory cuts in. He’s been watching me from across the room, not giving anything away.
He doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that they haven’t made an appearance yet, but I am.
We only have a small window of time before they get on that plane and fly off to god knows where. I don’t want to wait anymore.
This is it.
This is the golden opportunity, and if we don’t get them now, I fear that we never will.
“Smile,” Rory whispers in my ear. “Ye’re having the time of your life, baby doll. It’s the last time you’ll ever have to pretend.”
I smile. And lean into him.
For the next two minutes, it’s just us. His palm on my lower back, his other hand in mine. Rory’s a good dancer, and this doesn’t surprise me. He never half-asses anything.
He smells like sunshine and sea-breeze. And he looks like my future.
But in true Brodrick fashion, he doesn’t give me what I want.
The moment the song is over, he releases me.
“Keep after it,” he says. “It won’t be much longer now.”
Storm and I make another pass over the room and head back to the bar. But before we make it, the lights go out.
Like planned.
Only, they weren’t supposed to go out until Rory’s guys gave the signal.
A gun digs into my back and a voice whispers in my ear.
“Miss me, Ten?”
Quinn.
It’s motherfucking Quinn.
He’s still as delicate as ever, dragging me across the floor while someone else manhandles Storm too.
The room is black and pure chaos, people shouting for each other. Amongst the melee, Rory’s voice calls out for me too.
“Open your fucking mouth and she’s dead,” Quinn hisses. “But if you go quietly, we’ll let her go when we get outside.”
I do what they tell me.
Crow and Reaper and the guys are outside. And I know exactly where.
I hope they are ready. Because it sounds like we’ve got a few other guys hot on our tails as well.
“Feel like taking another trip to New Haven?” Quinn asks after he pushes me into a stairwell. “It’ll be just like old times.”
“Fuck you.”
“Hear that, Duke?” he taunts. “Told you once wouldn’t be enough. She wants me.”
“I wouldn’t touch her with my dick again even if she begged for it,” Duke says. “But this one though…”
There’s a commotion beside us, and then a grunt before a body tumbles to the ground and down the stairs in front of us.
I can’t be certain if it’s Duke or Storm, but my money’s on Duke.
Everything breaks into chaos then. There is scuffling and shouting and Quinn is dragged away from me and ushered down the stairs. Someone from behind us takes his place, seizing my arm.
I jam one of the spikes on the back of my heel into his calf.
“Jesus fuuuuuuuuuuck,” he squeals.
The fight is on.
He grabs my hair and tries to shove me forward, and I slice him again with the other heel. He lets go and I reach for the knives in the back of my dress.
When he comes at me again, I start slicing, anywhere I can reach. There’s scuffling beside me, and I don’t know if it’s Storm or someone else. I only know that I have to get through this prick before I can find out.
The first knife lodges into his flesh, and my hand slips off the grip when he retreats. And then there’s the telltale sound of a gun cocking.
The lights flicker back on. Duke and Quinn are long gone, but their hired guys are still here. Storm is alive and well and holding her own just fine. She’s got one of them pinned down with a spiked stiletto aimed straight for his throat.
I would stop to enjoy the show if the other guy wasn’t pointing his loaded gun straight at my head.
The jig is up.
“Let her go,” I tell him. “And I’ll come willingly. I’m the one they want.”
“Who her?” he gestures at Storm.
And then he pulls the fucking trigger.
The stairwell is dead silent, and except for the ringing in my ears, I can’t hear anything as she grabs at her arm and stumbles backward into the wall.
There’s blood on her dress, but I can’t tell where she’s been hit.
I think I said her name, but I’m not sure.
I’m not sure of anything. My legs are trying to move, but my brain is paralyzed. Another guy comes up from the bottom of the stairwell and grabs her, jamming a gun to her head and dragging her backwards.
The door opens behind me, and I hear angels singing.