Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22175 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Where did the gun come from?”
“My car.” He reaches behind him and tucks it away. “Does it scare you?”
“No, I just didn’t see it.” It came out of nowhere.
“I put it on when we got in the car. No firearms in the club.” The man has quick hands.
“Let me get my bathroom stuff. Everything else is still packed.” I hurry and grab everything.
“I shouldn’t have let you sleep here last night,” he mutters so low I almost don’t hear him as he looks around the room.
“I didn’t really sleep,” I say as I shove everything into one of my bags.
“You were worried.” He says it with concern in his voice before he comes over to me and touches my chin. He looks at my face as he tilts it up towards him like he’s inspecting my eyes for the truth. “You’ll sleep in the car.”
“Next to the man I don’t know that also happens to have a gun?”
“I’m not the bad guy. You can google me if you want.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.” Lots of people appear to be good on digital paper.
“You’re right,” he agrees, dropping his hand. “You shouldn’t trust someone you only met last night, but we don’t have time to waste. I’ll show you that I’m a good guy.” He grabs my bags for me, and I toss the key to my room on the nightstand before leaving.
“Where are we going?” I ask when we pull onto the highway.
“Somewhere safe until I can figure this out.” He runs his hand through his hair in a frustrated motion.
“You’re tired.”
“I’ll be fine.” He must have sat outside my room all night watching me. Was he protecting me or keeping tabs?
“What do you have to figure out?” I ask, and he flicks a glance my way before his eyes go back to the road.
“Why did you run?” He asks his own question and ignores mine.
“Did my father hire you?” I turn the tables and ignore his question this time. Mack takes a long pause before finally answering me.
“Yes.” My stomach sinks before he continues. “But I’m not taking you to him.”
“Why? Did something happen to him?”
“He’s okay, as far as I know.”
“Oh.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“You’re running from him yet you’re worried about him too?”
“I guess.” There’s no denying the rush of emotion I had when I thought he might be hurt or worse. “It’s complicated.”
“I’m getting that. Trust me.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Are you scared of him?”
“I don’t know how to answer that.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“I don’t know how to answer that either.” Mack’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “He’s never laid a hand on me, if that’s what you mean.”
“Do you know who your father is?” The question has me pausing, and I shrug my shoulder. My hackles start to rise. “Come on, little bit, talk to me,” he says gently.
“Little bit?” I smile. How is it he can so easily get me to calm down with a few words? It is kind of a fitting name for me, especially compared to Mack. You’d need three of me to make one of him. “Are you really a cop?”
He might be lying that my father sent him. Mack is clean-cut, but my father is too in his fancy suits. The difference is there’s a dark air around my father.
“No.” He shakes his head as a chuckle leaves him.
“I don’t know about my father’s business dealings.”
“But you know about his business?” He lifts a brow.
“Kind of.”
“This gets messier by the second.” He lets out a long sigh.
“What do you mean?”
“You need protection from your father, but you also don’t want anything to happen to him. Am I getting that right?”
“I want to be free,” I whisper.
“Nothing is free, little bit. Not even freedom.”
“I know.” I close my eyes, not wanting to think about the price I’m going to have to pay.
Chapter Eight
MACK
It’s a long drive back home, but after we talked for a little longer, Whitley was able to fall asleep. Before she passed out, I learned how she managed to get away from her father and that she loved to dance. She also told me about some of the friends she made working at the club and how she was always too afraid to get on stage.
Then I remembered the way she moved against my body as she took off her clothes, and I had to change the subject. Something about Whitley and how vulnerable she is makes all my protective instincts come out of hiding. I’ve never wanted to shelter someone the way I do with her, and I don’t even know her. Yet, when I look at her there’s a sense we’ve been together before, and now that she’s by my side I know what my mission is.