Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
The sheriff perks up at Jasmine’s words. He pushes the wet brim of his hat back to keep it from dripping on his uniform.
“Car off the road, you say? Where?” he asks as if he expects an answer.
“About a mile back that way,” I tell him, deliberately sounding simple and jerking a thumb behind me.
“European sports car parked sideways. Can’t miss it,” I call after him, easier in my mind only when he’s gone and the waitress has our order.
The weather outside is getting worse, but it looks like some people have other places to be, like it or not.
But Jasmine and I are on our third round of burgers and fries.
She is munching on some fries after only managing one burger, but for me, I can’t get enough of whatever it is they’re putting between two pieces of bread out here.
Being a small-town kind of place, I overhear some locals discussing things, from the weather to something else that might help me right now.
“…Been out past the old Feinberg place…,” a low voice drones.
“Yeah? Locked up tight in all this weather. Hasn’t floated away, eh?” says another.
“…Main gates off its hinge. But I’ll send word to the estate agent on Mondee… Nobody’s gonna go out there on a night like this anyways.”
Except maybe me and my new girl.
It doesn’t sound like what a suitcase of money can afford for the night, but it will keep our profiles low, and I’m technically still doing what Papa wants.
The real Maria Portello is definitely hidden away, someplace even I don’t know about.
And the one he thinks is Maria? Well, nobody would ever think of looking for us out here.
Least of all, in an abandoned old house. The one on the hill overlooking the valley, I’m guessing.
Jasmine needs to powder her nose, and instead of keeping such an obvious guard of the ladies' room door, I browse the little shopping aisles the diner has, laid out like a mini grocery store.
Charging like Fifth Avenue…But hey, the money was free, and we’re gonna need supplies.
Loaded up and keeping an eye on the door for Jasmine at the same time, I think we could survive on a few baskets of rations for a day or two.
I’m good to go by the time Jasmine appears, but I must look as shocked as I feel.
She’s wearing a totally different outfit and has a hat and mittens on, making me almost not recognize her.
She’s also managed to dry her hair and looks a lot happier than when we pulled up.
But how?
“There’s a little craft, gift shop thingy,” she explains, noticing my intense look of disapproval once I realize she’s been wandering around on her own while I shopped.
“Through the…, the ladies’ room has another door,” she explains, looking taken aback.
So I guess I have to explain something. Two things, really.
Holding the nape of her neck as I guide her with me to the checkout, I remind her we’re on the run and from something far more dangerous than the law.
Second?
“Plus, I want to keep my eyes on you every second I can. Don’t just take off without me, okay?” I ask, sliding my hand down her back, resting it on her hip as she mews an apology.
“And don’t say sorry,” I feel like telling her, but I don’t.
I’m not trying to be a controlling asshole. I just need her to follow some rules until we can get….
Get where? Do what?
The only two real questions I should be asking myself. But Jasmine’s so damned infatuating, and I’m still yet to claim her properly.
I don’t think I’ll have a clear thought until I’ve filled her with my seed.
At least one baby in the chamber oughta do it.
“Where to now?” she asks, reading my mind as she helps with the paper sacks of supplies.
“I think there’s a place nearby we can camp out in until tomorrow,” I murmur, glancing around into the drizzling weather, almost wishing we were being followed.
It would justify this growing paranoia, but it’s pretty clear nobody’s tailing us.
All this cloak and dagger stuff is starting to get old.
I just want to relax and let nature take its course with Jasmine.
And from the look in her eye as I help her back into the car, I know she’s thinking the exact same thing.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Jasmine
I feel bad for disappearing on Rocco, even for just a few minutes.
I know he’s right about us needing to be more careful, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I was soaked to the bone and half-frozen.
The electric hand dryer in the washroom, plus a locally knitted sweater and hat with mittens, were like a godsend.
It’s also the first thing I’ve ever bought with a real hundred-dollar bill.
And that’s something else I’ve never had either. Real money.
I’ve got a million questions, but it’s clear Rocco’s more a man of action than words. And once I see the winding road he takes, leading up to the giant silhouette of a house on a hill through the sheets of rain and lightning, I figure he knows where he’s going.