Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66515 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Now that I’m in the living room, all activity behind me, nerves start to kick in. I walk to the fireplace, sit down against the wall, and rest my hand on my gun inside my purse. Now, I can see who is coming and shoot first faster. Time ticks by long and heavy and my mind escapes the torture of the wait. I slip back into the past, something I can’t seem to avoid. It’s my only path to validating what was real and what was not. It’s my only way to judge myself for what I didn’t know and perhaps should have known about Aaron.
This memory is about a night when we were supposed to have dinner with my ex-boss and friend, Cole.
Cole and I are sitting at a table in the corner of an Italian restaurant. Cole is hot and rich, but he has never been even close to a romantic interest of mine. We’re like siblings, close siblings who are also friends. He matters to me; I matter to him, but not romantically.
“So I finally get to meet Noah,” he says, “after he put a ring on your finger. It’s about time.”
“He travels often, and you’ve had back-to-back trials these past few months.”
My cellphone rings, and I grab it from my purse to find Noah’s number. “It’s him,” I say, glancing toward the door. “He must be looking for us.” I answer the call. “Hey. Where are you?”
“Come outside. I need to talk to you.”
He needs to talk to me. My stomach rolls. Something’s wrong. I feel it. “Okay.” I disconnect and glance at Cole. “Give me a minute.”
His brow furrows, and when I start to get up, he grabs my arm. “What’s happening?”
“I’ll let you know in a minute.”
“Ashley—”
“I’ll be right back.”
He releases me, but it’s with obvious reluctance. I stand up, straightening the red dress I wore because Noah picked it and loved it this morning. I cross the restaurant and step outside into a muggy spring night that feels like summer. Suddenly, a hand closes down on my arm, and Noah pulls me to him and out of the path of the door.
He’s big, and so very handsome, a dark strand of hair caressing his brow. “I have an emergency. I have to fly out tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes. A client in LA is backing out of a deal that affects my clients here in Houston. I have to get him back in. My boss is losing his mind. It’s a billion-dollar deal.”
“Can you leave later? Can you come inside and—”
“Not tonight. I’m sorry, baby. I really am. I want to meet Cole. I know you care about him,” he strokes my hair, “but I need to go.”
“Just come in and let him see that you really exist.”
He holds up the ring. “I exist, baby, for the rest of your life. I’ll be back and with money in my pocket to take you anywhere you want to go.”
“I want to go inside with you.”
“Next time,” he says, cupping my head and kissing me, a seductive caress of his tongue against mine followed by another, drugging me to the point that when it’s over, I’m in another place. That place only he takes me.
“I’ll call you in the morning. You’ll be asleep when I land.” He kisses my hand right over the ring and then turns and walks away.
I stare after him, feeling weird about this, the way I do at random times with Noah, like I don’t know some of the secrets he keeps. I inhale and turn back to the restaurant, dreading the moment I tell Cole what just happened. He’ll ask if I really know Noah. He’ll make me question myself and the man I plan to marry.
I blink back to the present and understand now what had upset me then. Noah, Aaron, had a job for the CIA that night. He had to leave. If I’m honest with myself, something felt off with him at times, not quite right. It was that edgy, dangerous thing he oozes. I knew there was more to him, but I ignored it. I liked it. I can’t blame him fully for my own decision to know and ignore, but I do wonder if we will ever have a normal life together. Is that what I want? Normal? Banging starts on the front door, jolting me out of my own head, and then I hear, “Open up, Ashley.”
It’s Aaron, and I push to my feet, hurrying forward to unlock the door and pull it open. He stands in front of me with blood smeared on his face. I have my answer. No. I will never have a normal life with Aaron.
“Let’s go, now,” he says, taking my hand and pulling me forward.
“Our bags,” I say.
“No time,” he replies, pulling me outside and forward. I change my prior thought. Who cares about normal? I wonder if I’ll have a life to live at all when this is over.