Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
It’s cold but brightly lit. Lights hang from the ceiling as I run down the hallway. Coming up to the corner, I turn and slowly look around to see them getting into an elevator. I see it’s lit up to go down. I wait for it to close and then run down to the staircase next to it.
I make my way down to the lower level, noticing we were on level two. I gently push the door open and let out a long breath. I can see it puff out from my mouth. The temperature is even colder down here, making me shiver.
They push open a door and enter a room. I tiptoe and come up to it. There’s a window at the top and I try to lean up on my tiptoes to see through it, but it’s frosted. “Dammit,” I hiss.
When I go to turn the knob, a hand lands on my shoulder, making me scream out as I turn around.
“You look lost,” a man says to me. He’s one of them. Kashton is one of the three Spade brothers. He’s also covered in tattoos. “What were you doing?” he asks.
I jerk my arm out of his hold. “I’m looking for my husband.” I had overheard Ryat ask Tyson if he thought I was safe here, and he said yes. After I watched him on TV fighting off the cops in the parking lot of Blackout when the club was on fire, I know my husband wouldn’t put me in any danger. Not now.
Kashton smirks and reaches up. I gasp, thinking he’s going to pin me against the door, but instead, he uses his hand to open it. I fall backward into the room.
“Let me go,” the man growls, and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up at the sound of his voice. I’ve heard it before. Recently.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Tyson tells him, shaking his head.
“You can’t keep me here forever.” The guy circles around, watching Saint and my husband as if one of them is about to pounce on him.
“Not until you tell me everything you know,” Tyson informs him.
“I don’t know shit!” he screams, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls.
“That’s not true.” I step forward, speaking.
At the sound of my voice, Tyson’s eyes meet mine. They’re cold. Unforgiving. They narrow on me as if I’m the one in the wrong here. “What do you mean, Lake?” my husband demands.
“That’s him.” I point at the guy who is slowly stepping back into the corner of the room. Wide eyes on mine.
“Yes, the nurse who pretended to give you a birth control shot,” Tyson snaps at me.
I shake my head. “No. I mean, yes, but…” Swallowing, I look back at the guy. “He was the one who helped Luke.” It was loud in the club when Luke dragged me out of it. I was confused, my ears ringing. I didn’t recognize the guy’s voice in the van then, but now I do. Maybe because less time has passed since I was with him last. But I know for a fact it was him.
Tyson turns to face him, taking a step closer. “You were with Luke?” The guy that I remember by the name of Jackson doesn’t answer. “You’ve been here for a week, and you didn’t think to tell me that you helped kidnap her?” he screams.
He goes to run out of the room, but Saint grabs the back of his T-shirt as Tyson steps in front of him, punching him in the face and knocking him to the ground.
“How did you know where her tracker was?” he commands, hovering over him. One shoe on either side of Jackson’s head. “Huh? How the fuck did you know, you son of a bitch?” He steps away only to drag him up by his hair and slam his face into the wall. I watch the blood splatter before he falls to his knees.
“I waited … downstairs in the lobby.” He takes a deep breath. “After I administered the shot…” Blood pours from his face, and his shaking hands come up to wipe it away the best he can. “I followed you guys to Walls—"
“So you killed him,” Tyson growls. “Went in after we left, got the information you needed, and killed him.”
“No.” He shakes his bloody face. “I just reported what I saw.”
“To who?” my husband demands. “Luke?”
He nods, sniffing.
“Was it really Frank who called and told you to administer a fake birth control shot?” Jackson remains silent, and my husband kicks him, forcing Jackson to roll across the floor. “Fucking answer me,” he roars.
“Noooo.” Jackson begins to cry, holding his bloody face.
“Who the fuck was it?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“Luke.”
“If Luke knew where her tracker was, then why did he wait so long to go after her?” Saint wonders, and Jackson just shakes his head, not knowing the answer to that.