Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I can get there in time.
I can get there before something happens to her.
I can’t let anything happen to her.
There has to be something that can be done.
Right now.
Fuck, why doesn’t she have a weapon in her desk drawer?!
She should!
That should be fucking policy going forward!
At least a stun gun!
Something so she isn’t just a helpless, sitting duck.
The poor choice of words has me taking the corner a little rougher than intended.
She’s not the one that’s helpless.
I am.
I’m the stupid one a million miles away with no way to warn her that her life’s at stake.
“What about Seventeen?” Blu unexpectedly invades my thoughts. “Can you call Seventeen?”
“What?!” I holler at the top of my lungs and pull onto the main road damn near side swapping a vehicle. “What the fuck did you jus’ say to me?!”
“We can hate me later for suggesting you call your girlfriend’s ex-boyfriend-”
“Holy shit, Carmichael used to fuck Seventeen?!”
Blu throws an exasperated hand in his direction, “Is this really how you wanna die? Being shot to death in the backseat?”
Nice of him to save someone else’s life since I’m about to take his.
“And like I was saying-”
“Is this really how you wanna die, Blu? Thrown through the windshield for pickin’ the wrong time to fuck with me?”
“I’m not fucking with you,” he rushes to explain. “I know it’s not ideal and that he probably couldn’t hit a target standing still with a beanbag gun two feet away-”
“He’s actually got an irritatingly good shot.”
“Then how about we call him down there to check on her with a member of his security detail for assistance?”
“That’s a…” my head bounces back and forth in new annoyance, “fuck…That’s a really good call.”
“One you may not shoot me for.”
“Not right now at least.”
Unsure which I hate more – having his number or having to use it – I scroll through my contacts while steadily dodging what has to be a gang of blind nuns individually transporting nitroglycerin in the backseat of their separate vehicles given how fucking slow, they’re moving on the highway.
To my surprise, it only rings once before he answers, “Not a good time, Wahl. I’m in the middle of an important meeting.”
“Make it a good time, Seventeen!” I viciously bark back.
“Excuse me?”
“I said make it a good time!”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure he heard you loud and clear, man,” Blu less than quietly mutters.
“Arley’s in danger and I’m still at least twenty minutes out!”
“Wha-”
“End this call. Take a member of security from your own fuckin’ floor down to hers and stay with her ‘til I get there.”
“Wha-”
“Don’t you dare let anything fuckin’ happen to her, Lenkov, or you’ll be the second person I put a bullet in when I get there.” Hanging up is followed by me tossing an order over to Blu. “Put a call in to our contact at DPD about my emergency driving. Let’s get me a fuckin’ pass on this shit so I don’t have to kill a cop while trying to save my girlfriend’s life.”
Chapter 17
Arley
Are you kidding me with this shit?!
An annoyed eye roll is given at an old psych eval of approval given to one of the operatives who is no longer employed through us by one of the therapists who isn’t either.
There’s no way this guy should’ve been cleared for another assignment so quickly. All it takes is one long look at his handwriting to tell the amount of duress he was still dealing with. And then if you look deeper at his answers, it’s filled to the fucking brim with trigger words that indicate the same damn thing.
Why did this doctor sign off knowing this?
Did he miss these things?
Did he not know to look for them?
Oh shit!
Is he the poacher?
Is he the inside man we should be looking for?!
Quickly switching from my desktop to my laptop, I key in the name to search.
Unfortunately, the results don’t match the timeframe. His start date is after the first few poaches had begun and ends before several more occur meaning he can’t be the poacher.
And he can’t be the inside man because he doesn’t work here anymore.
However, he’s still bad at his job.
Good Charlotte continues to pump through my speakers inspiring me to grab my light up green froggy pen Slater got me from one of his first rescues in Georgia and use it like a microphone to add my own bright pink shades to the swirling mix spinning around the room.
God, I’ve missed this.
I mean as much as I love working from home – with my cowboy literally at arm’s length – I’m glad to have space again.
Something familiar as well as actually mine.
And the fact that I can listen to Dashboard Confessional or Story of The Year without being mocked or pleaded to put in headphones for a little while is nice too.