Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Before I can reach them, an alarm goes off. White lights flash. The wail of a siren goes off and sprinklers water down on us.
“Everyone evacuate!” someone shouts, just as the smell of acrid smoke reaches me.
Utter chaos erupts.
You don’t realize how crowded a place is until you all try to evacuate at once. One minute ago, the place was relatively calm, save some voices and laughter. Now, it’s a zoo.
People shove past me. Some scream, and others have the rabid look of someone being chased. I might be small, but I won’t let myself get trampled. Someone in front of me shoves me back. I throw my shoulder, knocking them down.
“Hey!” her boyfriend says, and the dumbass thinks he’s somehow entitled to hit me. I duck his hand, and in one quick movement, sweep his leg. With the crowd pushing on him, it’s the most effective way to make sure he stays down. His girlfriend screams. I take the opportunity to run.
I’m small, so it’s easy to dodge the melee of people around me. I wonder where Cain is, but I’m not too worried. Something tells me he can take care of himself.
I get to the exit when someone grabs me from behind. I feel strong fingers at the nape of my neck. On instinct, my hand flies up to block the touch just before I bend and strike at the torso behind the grasp.
I gasp when I see Cain doubled over, the people around us swarming past, oblivious to us. Shit! Sirens scream, coming closer.
“Fuck,” he pants, still doubled over. “It was a set-up. And Jesus, look before you fucking strike. Come with me.”
It’s then that I realize there’s blood dripping down his forehead and a gash on his upper left arm, and neither one of those were because of my self-defense moves.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. Follow me.” He sidesteps people left and right, then ducks down behind a barrel. He tugs me down beside him. Fire trucks come down the street, their sirens piercing the air. Our hiding space is so small, I’m right up against him, my back against his thighs. I keep myself very, very still.
His voice is a low vibration in my ear. “Stay here. We’re waiting until this has all died down. He pulled the fucking alarm trigger thinking it would scare us off.”
“Asshole. I don’t scare off that easily.”
“Good,” he says from behind me. His voice is a low rumble, his warm breath on my neck. “I don’t either. And now, we wait. The son of a bitch set me up.”
I would not want to be that bartender right about now.
“How do you know it was a setup?”
“The second I stepped outside of the bar, he was gone, the alarm went off, and when people poured out of the bar, I was attacked.”
I suspected he knew something. This only confirms it.
“Who attacked you?”
“Couldn’t see. Someone hooded, and they took off the second the place evacuated.”
“Son of a bitch.” I wobble in my crouched position, and without a word, he wraps his hand around my waist to steady me. His hand’s large enough that his grip on one side rights my whole body. My skin seems to flame beneath the heat of his touch. I force myself to stay focused.
The firefighters come, finish evacuating the place, and put out a small kitchen fire. I look in every direction to see where the bartender might have hidden. I pull up the bar website and look for everything I can find. They have a profile page with the name of everyone who works here. I get to work.
By the time the crowd’s dissipated, I’ve got everything I need to know about the bartender.
“You think they think we’re gone?”
“Long gone.”
“Good.”
We wait for what seems like hours. I don’t move. I barely even breathe. We’re safe in our hiding place, but our location could be revealed at any moment, so I stay exactly where I am. His hand’s still on me, steadying me. My breathing’s ragged and unsteady.
I blink in surprise when I see the bartender. I hiss to Cain, “I saw him. He went in just now through the back door to the stock room. Plan of attack?”
He grunts. “I’ll go in first. I’ll—”
“Let me go in first. I’m smaller and it will be easier for me to find him.”
“Absolutely not, and do not interrupt me again.”
I stifle a whine. Of course not. Yes, sir! ::inward eye roll::
His voice rings with authority. “I’ll find him. I’ll question him. You’ll do what I tell you.”
I grumble at him, “Take notes on my notepad and maybe make you a sandwich?”
The grip on my waist, which I almost forgot about, tightens. “Careful, Miss Price. Don’t push it.”
Now why would I do a thing like that? Grrr!
I see a glimmer of red hair through a window.