Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“No, you don’t.” I say this with such complete confidence that both men steal a glance at each other. I lift my hand and snap my fingers. “A map. I need a map.”
The chief yells out for Detective Renley, and within minutes, I hand over the secret locations of five of the hardest criminals the planet has ever seen. Once my friends, now my enemies. It’s a shame, but for me to reappear in the world, they need to go. So fuck ‘em.
I feel like a goddamn narc. But I can almost taste my freedom, and something tells me there isn’t a sweeter taste in the world.
Oh wait. Of course there is.
Lexi.
The warm brown tone of the chesterfield sofa is exceptionally deceptive. The moment you sit on the inviting-looking couch, the chill of the firm, cold leather makes you realize that this expensive piece of furniture is here for intimidation, not comfort. And right now, it’s doing a damn good job of doling out its purpose.
This morning, when I woke for the second time, I was hardly surprised to find myself handcuffed again. It was who I was handcuffed to that was surprising.
It seemed that after my emotional outburst in the middle of the night, Julius had decided that cuffing me to the bedframe was not the smartest idea. I returned from the bathroom, walked to the edge of the bed, to the place Julius remained seated with his back against the headboard, and held out my hands to resume my position of prisoner. I wanted to show him that I could be trusted, because gaining the trust of your captor seemed to be a smart move.
My eyes desperately sought permission to wander to Julius, to explore him unabashedly, but I wouldn’t allow it. That didn’t mean they obeyed. Peripheral vision was a beautiful thing.
How could a man who looked so surly, so angry, come across as tender as much as he did unfeeling? I was unsure how to process the evening, especially the moment he took me into his arms and held me, caressed away the pain he had been the cause of. My mind told me to be wary, that this was the way things began with Dino. Yet my heart frantically held onto the sliver of hope that came with the sympathetic gesture.
Rather than secure me again, he moved back over to his side of the bed and waited patiently for my stunned surprise to fade. As I moved slowly, quietly, to lie on the opposite side of the bed, Julius sat tall and threw the covers fully over my small body, all the way up to my neck, making sure I would be warm during the night. With everything that had happened over the last few days, I was sure I’d never get to sleep.
But then I woke up, dazed and confused.
I don’t know what time my eyes fluttered open, but long, warm fingers brushed mine and anxiety set in. My eyes opened wide, and when I tried to pull away, the fingers followed. I attempted to bring my hand up, but came into some difficulty, probably because I was cuffed again and the opposite cuff was attached to a thick wrist. That wrist was attached to a strong, muscled, coffee-colored arm. When I realized I was dangling Julius’s arm in the air, I dropped my hand, letting both ours fall to the bed with a bounce.
A snuffle sounded over the other side of the bed, the mattress moved, and suddenly he was awake. Sitting up, he blinked sleepily down at me as I lay still, wide-eyed and awkward, pulling the covers up to my nose.
“Time is it?” he asked, knowing full well I didn’t have a watch.
When I didn’t respond, he lifted his cuffed hand, pressing a button on his wristwatch to illuminate the screen, and then spoke gruffly, “I need to be somewhere in an hour, and Ling’s out, so you’re coming with me.” He turned to face me. “You can shower first.”
Behind the safety of the quilt, I spoke a muffled, “I don’t have any clothes.”
His eyes roamed my covered body without a care in the world. “Fine. I’ll go first. You can borrow something from Ling.”
Something told me Ling didn’t wear jeans and sneakers. With my heel punctured, I wasn’t even going to attempt a pair of pumps. “But my heel…”
I sounded like a whiny asshole.
“Alejandra,” he uttered firmly, annoyed, then huffed out a long breath. “We’ll find something.” Then he reached over to our wrists and, with a small key, unlocked his hand, freeing it. He reached back, and the unmistakable light clicking sound of the handcuffs locking again sounded.
I was once again fastened to the headboard.
I was also back to plain ole Alejandra.
The way he called me baby…
Shit. Is that all it takes to win you over, a pet name he probably uses with every woman he meets? That’s tragic.