Total pages in book: 218
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 209489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1047(@200wpm)___ 838(@250wpm)___ 698(@300wpm)
I forgot my wig. Dammit.
Through the windshield, I could see two figures sitting there. I was pretty sure they were wearing black too. Black hats, black long-sleeved shirts, and they both had sunglasses on. Why were they just watching? Why weren’t they trying to come out and talk or going into the back to get a package? All my things were delivered under a made-up name. Pulling out my phone, I did a quick search in my email for orders I might have forgotten about.
But the closer I got to the gate, the more this odd feeling came over my arms and the back of my neck. When was the last time those had prickled? What I was pretty sure was The Defender’s anger had made my skin react but in a totally different way.
My stomach cramped, hard. Nausea punched a path straight up my throat, so violent I almost stumbled.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
No.
The hair on my arms rose, and so did every single other fine hair on my body. I shivered out in the morning sun, and I knew. I knew.
I turned, and I fucking ran.
And it was then, immediately right fucking then, three long strides in, that I saw that The Defender had followed me out. He was standing at the open doorway, one hand on each side of the railing, his body stooped. His nose in the air.
“Run!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. “Go!” I shouted like a fucking banshee. “Don’t let them get you!” I screamed, my voice cracking in panic and worry and desperation.
Please, please, please, let him get away, I thought as I ran for my fucking life.
Because that was exactly what I was doing.
Just not in the direction I should have. Because I couldn’t let them get him. That was what I’d understood. There was going to be no running away.
More of just trying to distract them away from him.
Fuckkkkk!
I’d remember for as long as I lived, that he stood there on the deck, barely able to stand just as a sound exploded across the sky at the same time something hit me in the back hard—so damn hard, oww, oww, oww—once, twice, three times, sending me flying forward.
Just like in the movies when a bomb exploded.
I went airborne for what felt like two minutes but was more than likely just a second before coming to crash, skidding across the hard ground.
My ears rang.
My mouth tasted like… iron. Like blood?
And oww, oww, oww, my ribs… my back. I tried to take a breath, but the pain was unreal. But somehow, even as my vision blurred and my back was on fire and hurt like the worst hell, I lifted my gaze and looked for him.
I found him.
Well, more like the mound of white and gray on the ground by the stairs to the deck.
Why hadn’t he run? How the hell had they taken him down? Had they shot him too?
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw feet. One pair of black boots after another surrounded me, coming so close I thought for sure I was going to get stepped on if I could care about anything other than The Defender.
They couldn’t take him.
No, no, no. “Run,” I tried to say, even though I didn’t actually hear my words because my ears were ringing. “Don’t let them take you,” my lips moved.
Something wet slipped down my cheek as more boots came forward. My back hurt so bad. All I could do was watch the figure on the ground get surrounded by those men wearing black too.
Tears poured down my cheeks, and I whimpered, at least it felt like I did it and—
My ears throbbed harder, and I slapped a palm over the one aching the worst, but I couldn’t think.
I couldn’t even see The Defender anymore, but I hoped more than anything he had managed to get away. He could, I knew he could. Lifting my gaze, I realized I was in the middle of what had to be… twenty… thirty men dressed in paramilitary-type outfits, holding guns all aimed at me.
I had to… I had to do… something….
I couldn’t let them hurt him. How had they found me? I’d been so careful.
I struggled up to my least painful hand and balanced on my other forearm, trying to sit up. “He has nothing to do with this,” I tried to say. “Leave him alone.” I tasted even more blood. Why did my teeth hurt? “Let him go. I won’t fight you. Please. I’ll go with you.”
I would. I’d go with them. Promise.
Everything hurt, everything hurt.
But I had to… I had to…
The sound of a gunshot cracked across the air at the same time something hit my back so hard, I screamed.
Had they shot me? Was I about to fucking die?
Sheer fear wrapped me up entirely at not knowing what was going on.