Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Before I can go through with the idea, the phone rings, and my heart seizes.
“Bianca,” I breathe before hitting the green button while Romero sighs.
“Callum?” her voice is small, a whimper. Before I can demand anything from her, fear in her trembling voice freezes my blood. “I need you to come here right away. There’s something wrong with Tatum.”
BIANCA
She’ll kill me for calling him, but I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been knocking at the bedroom door in our suite for the past hour, and she won’t let me in. I could either call hotel security and have them unlock it, or call Callum and hope he can get through to her.
“Tatum?” I murmur while knocking for the millionth time. “Sweetie, at least make a sound and let me know you’re okay. I’m really scared and worried.”
Last night, she was hysterical over Lucas kidnapping me. Tonight, I’m talking to a locked door and hoping like hell she’s alive on the other side. I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s capable of anything, as painful as it is to think about.
“Just leave me alone.” It’s so soft I can hardly hear it, but her muffled voice at least tells me she’s alive in there.
Think, damn it. What set her off? She couldn’t have had more than two or three drinks at the bar, so she’s not wasted. I’ve seen her double-fist margaritas all night long. “Why won’t you let me in? Are you sure that guy didn’t hurt you?”
“Leave me alone!” Something hits the door, and I jump back, cringing. I have no idea what could’ve happened or why she’s keeping it from me.
Calling for help was the only thing I could do.
It’s not like I wanted to go through with this whole running away thing by the time the sun came up this morning. We hung around the suite all day, watching TV, ordering room service, soaking in the big tub, and napping while I tried and failed to forget the horrors of last night. Then, when we were both bored enough to scream, we figured we’d have a few drinks downstairs.
Which was when everything fell apart.
A sharp knock at the door makes me run across the living room half of the suite. A look through the peephole shows Callum and Romero out in the hall. Big surprise, Callum looks ready to kill someone. Romero glances up and down the hall, always the protector.
I leave the chain in place and open the door a crack. Callum pushes on it right away. “Let me in.”
“Shh.” I hold a finger to my lips, eyes wide.
“Open. The door.” His eyes are nearly black, burning with rage. “Now.”
“She’s too upset for you to come barging in here,” I whisper. “I mean, really upset. I’m scared. She needs us to be calm with her.”
When all he does is seethe, I add, “Please, Callum. Don’t make me regret calling you.”
Little by little, his features soften. “Fine,” he replies, teeth gritted. “Tell me what happened.”
I have to trust him, I guess, for Tatum’s sake. I’ll ignore the way my heart feels like it’s going to explode. This isn’t about me or how much I missed Callum today. How I wished a hundred times I could call him and beg for forgiveness. I was feeling weak and lonely and regretting my decision. Seeing him now ready to bust a blood vessel reminds me why running seemed like a good idea.
I close the door to remove the chain, then step aside and open it the rest of the way. Callum looks around the spacious, tasteful room and sniffs the air before scowling deeper than before. The scent of cologne still hangs in the air.
He keeps his temper in check, maybe because of the closed bedroom door. He jerks a thumb toward it, and I nod. “What happened?” he mutters while Romero presses his ear to the door.
I gesture for them to follow me to the window at the opposite corner of the suite. He’s here as a father, not as the boyfriend I ran away from last night. I remind myself of that.
“I don’t know what happened,” I whisper while wrapping my arms around myself to keep from shaking.
“Maybe start with why it smells like a bunch of frat boys were in here,” Callum says. “It reeks of cheap cologne.”
“We were downstairs in the bar.” It’s easier to look at Romero since he doesn’t look like he wants to snap my neck. “We only had a couple of drinks. Three guys came in, and we started chatting, and…”
“And?” Callum’s face hardens.
“And…” The words keep getting stuck in my throat. “And they said we should take the party upstairs, so we brought them up to the room.”
“You what?”
I will not cry. Even when I know how this must sound. “It was Tatum who said yes,” I tell Romero. “I wasn’t interested. I sat out here with two of the guys. Tatum took the third one into the bedroom.”