Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“They are more than just abs, Caroline.” I say that a little too loud, and Robin looks over at me and raises an eyebrow. I turn bright red and leave the room as quickly as I can. I should have left ages ago, but Caroline threw me for a loop with the enforcer request. “They are extremely talented.” I continue.
“I’m sure they are, dear, but they can’t exactly show those talents off at a charity event.” I blush even more.
“That isn’t what I mean. They don’t just have huge cocks and talents in bed, but also huge brains and outside-the-bedroom skills. Gustav raps.” I know I sound a little silly, but I feel proud that not only are they all so talented, but that they are willing to share those talents with me.
“Evie, as much as I want to hear about how wonderful they are, I want you to think about how they could be helpful. I think that, together, we can do great things for the city. Think about it, will you? And if you ever need anything, any advice on…well, guys, you know you can call me, right?”
Caroling sounds just like a big sister. I’m glad I have found someone who seems to understand the crazy world I’ve found myself in.
“Thank you, Caro. I know you’re here for me. I appreciate it.” I sigh. “I’ll think about what you asked.”
“Great! See you at the Twilight Gala. I’ll bring my own bachelors.” She laughs and hangs up.
Chapter 26
Eve
Days have passed and I haven't heard anything. Not a damn word from the police. You would think that they could at least update me, but no. I thought ‘A right to remain silent’ only applied to their perps...
I'm scared and I know that these men are tired of being my shadows.
Brandon suggested that I call the station. Thankfully, my mind has been busy with the upcoming event, but I am tired of constantly looking over my shoulder. Worrying about something that could happen to me is making me anxious.
I retreat into my office and sit there for a few moments to think about what I'm going to say to the police. How am I going to handle the news anyway? I hope they tell me that all three are in jail, but if that were true, they would have already called me.
I grab the phone, knowing I have to do this for my peace of mind. I dial the station’s number and ask for the detective in charge of my case.
Five minutes later, I learn that the police don’t have anything. Not a sign clue. They went to the three men’s apartment, but it was empty. I sigh as I hang up the phone, wishing with all my might that there would be a tiny bit of news. Those three men have become ghosts and are haunting my every waking moment, tormenting and agonizing me.
It's not fair of me to ask the other ten to give up their lives to protect me, but this is what they wanted.
I need to refocus all this energy on the charity event. If I can drown myself in work, I can block out this horrifying ordeal, and the feeling of dread will diminish. Or so I hope.
As the hours tick by, I spend my morning making phone calls to the event site, the caterers, some benefactors, and to my mom.
It's been a few days since I last talked to my parents, and I want to get an update on how they’re feeling. They've both been ill.
Mom assures me that she and Dad are fine. Nothing to worry about. But when she asks me the same question, I lie. I hate lying to my parents, but I don't want to bring them any more stress. I know they would insist on coming back, and that won't be happening. Scarlet is my responsibility now.
My phone alerts me to a new text. When I check it, I can't help smiling. Three of the women from the charity want to meet me for lunch at a coffee shop. Not only do I love that place, but I'm excited about this event.
The children will be so excited when they find out about all the new supplies and funding they will receive. I've always had money, so to go without is not something I want anyone to experience if I can help it.
I have Robin drive me home for a quick change of clothing. The red dress I am wearing isn't suitable for this kind of lunch.
As I am changing, I realize that maybe I should keep a change of clothes at the office. Something appropriate for any occasion.
I settle on a simple black skirt a few inches above the knee, a lilac silk blouse, and a fitted black jacket. It screams ‘I am a professional,’ something the red didn't do for me, though it did look amazing the way it gripped my ass. I only know that because Robin assured me of it on the way home.