Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Which is?”
I tilted my head, studying her. “Waiting for you.”
Color flushed her cheeks. “Oh.”
She looked as surprised by my words as I was. But I was being honest. From the moment our eyes met, I felt a connection. I wanted to know everything about her. Including what in her past had hurt her and why she had left her hometown. I had seen the pain in her eyes when I asked about friends or a boyfriend. Felt the sadness in her single-word answer. “No.”
“You aren’t alone with this anymore.”
She looked dazed.
“Does my directness bother you?”
She pursed her lips. “It should, given why I ran in here, but for some reason, it doesn’t. I like your directness.”
“Good. I will always be honest with you.”
Again, that odd look crossed her face. “I like honesty.”
This wasn’t the time to question her. I would find out her history soon enough.
“Are you ready to go home?”
She blew out a breath and nodded.
I went to the bar and paid the bill, then walked to the table where she was still sitting. She was chewing the inside of her cheek, clasping her hands on the scarred wooden top, her fingers moving restlessly against one another.
I held out my hand. “Trust me, Raven.”
She stood, slipping her hand into mine, and shook her head. “That’s the odd part, Damien. Given what has happened, I do trust you.”
“What did your gut instinct say when you met Andy?”
Her brow furrowed. “To hold back.”
“Then listen to your gut. First impressions are often the right ones.” I winked, wanting her to be comfortable. “And in my case, you’re spot-on.”
She let me lead her from the restaurant, although I felt her tension as we stepped outside. I saw the way her gaze darted around, looking in the shadows, searching the doorways. All my senses were tuned to the area around us, my training kicking in. I wrapped my arm around her waist, tucking her into my side.
“You’re fine,” I assured her. “Nothing and no one will come close.”
I liked how it felt when she slipped her arm around me and nestled close.
“Okay,” she breathed.
When we arrived at her building, I checked out the lock, pleased to see it was decent. Not what I would install, but not easily picked. I disliked the fact that you could follow someone into the building and get to her apartment without warning, though. He’d already done it at least once. She pressed the elevator button, waiting for the old lift to arrive.
“I thought you were on the second floor?” I asked, surprised she didn’t take the stairs that were directly to the right.
She grimaced. “It smells like death in the stairwell. Both of them. Old, musty, and awful. The light flickers a lot. The doors jammed once, and I was trapped in there for over half an hour. Now I wait for the elevator. It’s old but reliable.”
I hid my grin. “Gotcha.”
I followed her into the elevator, then down the hall, laying my hand on her arm before she slid the key into the lock.
“Do you have any lights on inside?”
“No.”
“Are your blinds open?”
“In the bedroom, yes. Not the living room.”
“Good. Don’t switch on the lights. We’re going inside fast.”
She frowned but didn’t ask why. We walked in, and I shut the door behind us quickly. “Can you walk me to your room?” I asked.
I was pleased when she didn’t question me, instead taking my hand and heading us down a short hall. In the doorway of her room, I saw the window—the blinds open, but slanted so you couldn’t really see in. I scanned the area, my eyes already used to the darkness. I skirted around the bed and dresser, lowering myself and angling the bottom slat so I had a clear view of the street below. Given the weather, the rain-soaked streets were mostly empty. She lived on a fairly quiet road, the lights along the sidewalk casting pools of illumination on the cement. There seemed to be nothing out of the ordinary until I focused on the one unlit streetlight across the street from her apartment. The doorway of the building was dark as well, and I narrowed my eyes, studying the black. I watched as the shadows moved a little, indicating the doorway wasn’t as deserted as the person hiding in it believed.
I stood, easing back.
“Stay here,” I instructed. “Wait thirty seconds, then go to the living room and turn on a light, but don’t open the blinds. Do the same in the kitchen. Move around but stay away from the windows.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ll be right back. Stay here,” I replied. “Do the back stairs lead to an exit?”
“Yes. To the small parking lot and alley.”
“Perfect. Where are they?”
“To the left at the end of the hall.”
“Okay.”
I had to admit she was right. The stairwell was dim, musty, and obviously not well used. I grimaced as I hurried down the steps, opening the door to the back of the building. I rushed along the alley, coming up the side of the building beside hers. I peered around the corner at the doorway in question. I waited a moment until I saw another slight movement.