Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
“Run!”
At first it’s my mother’s voice, my dream, and I think my imagination is still playing tricks on me.
“Nix!” a voice yells a second time from the edge of the woods. “Run!”
As soon as I hear my name just that way, called in that deep voice, my heart pounds against my ribs.
“Maxim?” I look around, frantically searching the tangle of wild bushes and trees. And then I see him. Running toward us, a gun extended, aimed.
“Run!” he shouts again, not looking at me, eyes locked on Abe. “Murrow, get her out of here.”
Wallace, as if snapping from a trance, grabs my arm awkwardly with one cuffed hand and takes off, dragging me along with him. I glance back. Fury tautens every line of Abe’s body. He looks from the dead man on the ground to Maxim and picks up Nixon’s automatic weapon.
“No!” I scream, breaking away from Wallace and running back. Before Abe gets off even one shot, the report of a bullet splinters the air. Abe stumbles back, a scarlet bloodstain blossoming on his shoulder through his T-shirt. He covers the wound with his hand and takes off toward the boat. Another shot rings out, but Maxim hasn’t raised his gun again. A huge man dressed in camouflage pursues Abe, who pauses long enough to lift his gun despite a grimace of pain. The man in fatigues shoots him again, this time hitting the other shoulder. Abe stumbles toward the river where the boat waits, lunging, his body half on, half off the vessel. Another shot fires, this one hitting him in the back. He falls overboard into the rushing water, which drags him downstream. The man in fatigues keeps running, wading along the river’s edge in the direction the water carries Abe.
“Don’t let him get away!” the man in fatigues shouts.
It’s only then I notice the group of men following him, all dressed in camouflage, black greasepaint smeared on their faces. Several of them jump in the yellow raft and follow Abe’s body, bobbing along and farther away. With narrowed eyes, Maxim watches the violent waves, blood streaming behind Abe in a scarlet wake.
“Doc!” I run and hurl myself at him, not even sure he’s ready to catch me. But he does. His arms encircle me so tightly it almost hurts and it’s still not tight enough. Maxim’s muscles flex with leashed power, but with my arms and cuffed hands trapped between us, he trembles against me. It feels like I’m rescuing him, too.
“Nix,” he says, his voice rough. “I thought…”
“I’m okay.” I press into him, sobs shaking my whole body—relief, joy, shock. Too many emotions to contain, and they leak from me in a torrent, wetting his neck, his shirt with my tears.
“You’re okay?” He pulls back to search my face, to look into my eyes. “Did he hurt you?”
Those are two separate questions with different responses. Yes, he hurt me, but I’m okay. I have no idea how what Wallace and I experienced will affect me tomorrow or the next day, but in this moment, in Maxim’s arms, I know how I feel right now. “I’m okay.”
His sharp look narrows on my face. “Nix—”
“I’m fine. Doc, I’m fine. I promise.”
He nods, pushing my tangle of unwashed messy hair back. I’m sure I look bad, my cheek swollen from the blow of Abe’s gun, my face smeared with God knows what. I haven’t been able to brush my teeth in days. I should feel self-conscious with him watching me so closely. His stare consumes every part of me, and I feel eaten alive in the best way. I don’t care about my appearance when he looks at me like that, like he sees me.
“I love you, Nix.” He says it so softly, Wallace and the few members of the rescue team standing nearby couldn’t have heard him, but to me, it sounds like he’s shouted it to the stars. I’m overcome with every possibility for happiness I never thought I’d find or even care about, right here in front of me. He’s gloriously masculine and perfectly mine.
I say the only thing I can with so much emotion burning and clogging my throat.
“Same, Doc,” I whisper, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes that have nothing to do with what I just went through and everything to do with what’s ahead of me. Of us. “Same.”
CHAPTER 9
LENNIX
“More tea, Lenn?”
My stepmother Bethany’s solicitousness is so sweet, but I’m tired of being fussed over. It’s surreal to be safely ensconced in the downy luxury of my bed, the lights and sounds of DC just beyond my window. After a few days in a cave, half of the time spent with a bag over my head, even the dim light of my bedroom lamp seems like too much. It feels like the walls are squeezing me, like that inordinately affectionate distant relative who gives you socks each Christmas and hugs so long and too tight. It should feel so good, but…it’s too much.