Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 663(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“Stay put. I’ll be right back for you.” Caz leaves the room, aiming his gun ahead. When it’s clear, he shuts the red door behind him, and my heart thumps violently in my chest as I shift my gaze to Rami’s body, then out the window at the fighting ring.
A bell rings and makes my head throb, and I’m not sure what kind of suppressant I was given but I feel the urge to vomit. I lean forward, pouring out whatever contents are in my belly onto the floor, then wipe my mouth with the back of my arm.
When I look back up, I hear gunshots, and people are running, screaming, and scattering like roaches. More gunshots, and a bullet hits the screen hanging near the ceiling. One side of the screen falls off the brackets and dangles, and when I drop my gaze to the floor again, Rowan is running into the cage, aiming his gun at the referee and Juniper’s opponent, a beefy pale woman with cornrows.
He collects Juniper from the ground with one arm while barking orders and his gun still aimed, and the referee and opponent flee the ring.
Not too far away, Caz and Killian are standing outside the ring, holding their guns firmly and shooting at the armed guards bursting through one of the entrances.
They’ll be outnumbered if they don’t leave soon.
Another dizzy spell hits me, and I groan, slumping back in the chair. I breathe in and out. In and out. It doesn’t help. I wheeze as weakness plagues me.
I need you.
My eyes begin to close, despite trying my hardest to keep them open. The last words I hear before I slip into darkness are his.
I’m coming.
Return to Blackwater
Forty-Eight
CAZ
Dealing with Willow was meant to be a simple exchange. I figure out how to get her back to her world, and things go back to the way they were. That’s no longer the case, and I realize that as she lies on my lap and the worry has seized me. I had one job—to get her back—and if she dies, I’ve failed. I hardly ever fail. That alone is eating me alive.
Rowan drives, and Killian rides passenger. Juniper is in the back seat with me, Willow’s legs on her lap, and Silvera is on the floor of the car, nuzzling Willow’s hand. We’d left her in the car before going into Rami’s club. Juniper gives me a look, but I pull my eyes away before I can digest what that look means.
I’m sure she’s wondering why I have Willow so close to me. No one would believe it. Hell, I can’t even believe it. Here this woman is, lying on my lap, and it doesn’t bother me. I’ve never let anyone lie on me, but with her…it’s different. And I felt that when I shot Rami through his fucking skull. When she threw her arms around me, it was as if I could see the world a bit more clearly. I expected to feel anger or pain, but when she buried her nose into the crook of my neck, I only felt…peace. A tidal wave of emotion rushed over me, and I couldn’t quite grasp most of what I was feeling, but it felt good. That fleeting moment of her skin on mine was otherworldly. I didn’t want her to let go. I was lost in her touch, wanting more to ease her pain and allow her to ease mine.
“What’ll we do about Rami?” Juniper asks in a low voice. I glance at her. Her left eye is swollen shut, and there’s a cut above her lip. Her hair sticks to her forehead, still sticky with sweat.
“Nothing we can do,” I mumble, and I can tell that answer doesn’t satisfy her, but she won’t argue. Not right now.
Rowan pulls up to the front of my house, and I ease Willow off my lap to get out of the car. I reach inside to pick her up and carry her into the house, and as I do, I feel my cousins’ eyes on me from behind. I bet they’re looking at each other now, wondering how the hell I’m allowing any of this—holding her, carrying her—but I don’t care.
“Della!” I shout, marching through the door.
Footsteps clamber around the corner, and Della rushes from the kitchen. “Yes, Mr. Harlow?”
“I need you to take care of her,” I order, marching past her to get up the stairs. “She’s been given a Rippie suppressant. I think there was too much in the drink. It’s been hours and she still hasn’t woken up.”
“Do you think it’s an overdose?”
Fuck. I hope not. An overdose is lethal. It’d paralyze her for years. “I’m not sure.” I place Willow on the bed of one of my guest rooms. She doesn’t make a sound. If her chest weren’t moving, I’d think she’d have stopped breathing. “Just do what you can.”