Series: The Moretti Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 557(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Once we’re both clean, I shut the water off, and together we step out onto the bathmat. I dry her from head to toe and then help dry her golden locks.
I head out into the bedroom, making a beeline for the closet. Looking through the clothing, I find some clothes and bring them out to her. She stands there for a long moment, staring at the clothes in my outstretched hand.
Then she looks up at me. “You really don’t… you don’t want sex?”
I pull on a pair of sweats and meet her gaze. “Not right now.”
“Not today, you mean?”
“Not right now,” I repeat sternly. “Now, put on your fucking clothes. I don’t have time to argue with you. I’ve got shit to do.”
Her eyelids flutter against her cheeks, and she looks as if she’s trying to hide her shocked expression from me through them. Of course, she doesn’t believe me. I hardly believe myself. Every time I think I’m going to keep myself in line and be strong, I feel a piece of my hard-exterior break free. I don’t want to admit it, but she has a special hold on me, and it’s more than her looking like Victoria.
If I’m honest, I have hardly thought of Victoria since I laid eyes on Fallon. I expected her to be a constant reminder; maybe that’s why I wanted her so badly. I subconsciously wanted to punish myself. But now that she is here, I only see her, only Fallon.
Taking the T-shirt I handed her, she pulls it over her head, her perfect body disappears beneath the cotton. I watch her pull on panties and leggings while I get myself dressed.
“What is it you have to do today?” she asks when we are both dressed.
“I’m going to find out how someone could track us here, and you are going to help me.”
11
Fallon
Breakfast consists of oatmeal and canned fruit. Markus doesn’t eat as usual but pours himself a cup of coffee, so I don’t feel as if I’m the only one doing something.
As I shovel food into my mouth, I think about the kindness he showed me this morning. How he washed my hair and body without asking for anything in return.
Everything told me it was a trap, but as I finish my breakfast, and he doesn’t jump across the table to take me like a savage beast, the thought fades. I find myself squirming in my chair as he stares at me across the table. Beneath his gaze, it feels like I’m under a magnifying glass, each move and word spoken, always given a second look.
Watching him murder that man without blinking made me see him in a new light. I was sure I couldn’t hate him anymore, that I couldn’t become anymore frightened of him, and then he did that. My body and brain were confused by him, pulled in two different directions by his whiplash behavior. I didn’t know if he was going to be kind or use me, and that left me on edge.
Now he’s worried we are being tracked, and I am too. How did that man find us? Why did he have a camera?
“Let’s go.” Markus interrupts my thoughts, and I look up from my bowl and discover that he’s finished his coffee. I peer down into my bowl and see I still have a little left to eat.
Looking back up, my lips part. I’m ready to tell him I still have some to eat when I find his features hard as stone. He’s on a mission today, and I’m along for the ride.
“Okay,” I murmur and shove out of my chair, making it scrape loudly against the floor.
Markus walks around the table and grabs me by the wrist. His hold is firm, his fingers branded into my skin, and even though I’m tempted to pull away, I know better than to try.
“You don’t have to hold onto me. I’m not going to run.”
He drags me to the door and releases me, giving me half a second to put my shoes on. “I know you won’t. Not if you value your life, but one can never be sure enough.”
If I was here for anything else, I would probably run—run until my lungs burned, and there was enough distance between us—But I can’t run. I can’t even consider escaping because doing so would defeat the purpose of me being here.
As soon as my shoes are on, Markus is dragging me behind him and out to the car. He acts like the vehicle is going to disappear before we can reach it.
I stop myself from saying something stupid.
He releases me again and takes a step back. “We’re going to search for a tracker. The outside first, then the inside. I need your little hands to reach into spaces I can’t since I don’t feel like taking the entire car apart.”