Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“You need to go, Ria.” He’s uneasy, almost guilty sounding.
“Just like that?” I cock one eyebrow at him. “You expect me to just walk out of here without a care for the bloody unit of a man that is clearly threatening you?” I snap.
“Look, just leave, Ria. I’ll call you later.” There’s an edge to his voice that I’ve never heard before. Euan has always been unfailingly sweet and polite. Now, though, he’s agitated and twitchy and bordering on rude.
I cross my arms over my chest. “No. You tell me what’s going on right now.”
“Your boyfriend owes me money, princess.” The man slinks in the doorway.
“And you are?”
“Rich.”
“How much money?” I ask slowly.
“Ria, please just—” Euan starts.
“Twenty grand,” Rich cuts him off.
I almost fall over. “Twenty grand?!” I shriek.
He nods. “What the hell? No wonder you have the Hulk after you,” I moan.
Rich smirks.
“Look, it’s just a misunderstanding,” Euan says defensively.
Rich looks almost bored now. “Nope, no misunderstanding. You pay twenty grand today, or I’m going to break your legs.” He inspects his nails and continues, “Followed by every bone in your body, and ending with a bullet in your skull,” he says with cold nonchalance.
My stomach tightens and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I really want to say he must be joking, but his entire demeanor tells me he’s absolutely serious.
“What does he owe the money for?” I ask. Rich turns those menacing eyes on me again. His gaze flicks lazily down my body before trailing back up.
He shrugs. “Gambling.”
The air rushes from my lungs. “Gambling,” I whisper. Gambling in a state where gambling is illegal, which means Euan now owes money to some pretty unsavoury people. “Brilliant,” I say acerbically.
My boyfriend is a lowlife with a gambling problem. You think you know someone. I mean, Euan is so put together. He has everything going for him...
“Look, I can get the money. Just give me three days,” Euan begs, ignoring me now.
Rich shakes his head, his lips twitching. “Now or nothing, frat boy. Your choice.”
“I promise, I can get it to you in three days.” His tone sounds like a whiny child.
“Enough,” Rich snaps.
“Take her!” Euan grabs me by the shoulders and shoves me toward the scary man. “Take Ria as security. I’ll bring you the money.”
“What?!” I shout. “Are you fucking insane?!”
Rich smiles, but it’s like a shark smiling at me. There’s nothing comforting about the gesture.
“Dirty mouth for a little rich girl,” he says. “I like it.”
I stumble backwards. “I’m not going anywhere with you. His debts are his problems.”
What the hell has Euan gotten me into? I should have left him here to his fate. Stupid me for giving a damn about him when he clearly doesn’t give a shit about me. He’s willing to hand me over to this brute, all over a gambling debt. I look Rich over again: the broad shoulders, those cold eyes, the close-shaved hair, the light scar on his cheek. All of this coupled with the new information that he’s not exactly an upstanding, law-abiding citizen makes me want to run as far away from him as possible.
“This is his debt. Hell, at this point, break his legs. I don’t care,” I growl as my temper kicks in, but all Rich does is laugh.
Euan wraps his fingers around my wrist, but I yank away sharply. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“I can get the money, baby. He’ll kill me if you don’t go!”
I laugh humorlessly. “Go fuck yourself, Euan.”
Rich snickers like an amused child who’s just found a new toy. “I’ll take her, and that BMW you have parked outside.”
Euan opens his mouth to argue, but quickly snaps it shut again, handing over the keys to his much-loved car. Apparently he’s more attached to that than he is to me.
Rich grabs me by the shoulders, taking both my arms and crossing them snuggly behind my back with a strength I didn’t know someone could even possess.
“Three days” are Rich’s parting words before he hauls me toward the door.
By some miracle I manage to wiggle one arm free from his hold and grab the pepper spray from my back pocket. I hold the trigger down, and I aim straight for his eyes. He’s a foot taller than me and I don’t get a good shot, but it’s better than nothing. He shouts out and his grip on my arm loosens, but not enough. I’m just about to swing my leg back and go for gold between his legs when I feel cold metal against the side of my neck.
I freeze.
Rich pushes the barrel of a gun into my neck, the cold metal biting against my skin. My pulse thumps wildly in my chest as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. Guns terrify me. Maybe it’s because of the number of gunshot victims I’ve dealt with, the amount of people I’ve watched die with just the pull of a trigger. Whatever the reason, it’s a rational and very real fear.