Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
"Now? We're leaving now?" She gulps, her eyes going comically wide.
"Yes," I say, barely able to fight back the smile threatening to overtake my face. "We're leaving now."
"But…" She opens her mouth and then closes it several times, obviously looking for some objection she can't find. Finally, she sighs, tossing her head as she climbs to her feet. "Fine," she mutters again. "But I don't like it."
I laugh softly as she stomps down the hall to gather her things. Once I'm sure she's doing what she was told and isn't trying to pry the bars off the windows to escape, I step outside to talk to Gunner.
"How'd she take it?" he asks, looking up from his phone.
"She's not thrilled with me right now." I lean against a rickety post, staring out into the overgrown yard. "Finn and Roman have been advised of what happened. Sanders is being dealt with."
Gunner nods like he expected that. "I'll swing by there when we leave here."
"You can head out," I murmur, casting a glance at him. "I'll get her there safely."
"With all due respect, I'm on her security detail until she's safely inside your residence," he says, meeting my gaze. His expression is steady, resolute. "I'd like to do my job until then."
Respect for him ripples through me. I can't fault the man for doing his job. If he wants to fulfill his obligation, who am I to stand in the way?
"Very well." I give him a nod. "You can follow behind us."
Faith stomps outside a few minutes later, her arms loaded with shopping bags. Her face is set in stubborn lines, her eyes narrowed as they sweep over me. "I guess I'm ready," she mumbles.
"Let me take them, angel," I murmur when she clings to the bags instead of letting me take them from her. "Your hands are injured."
She huffs and reluctantly releases her grip on the bags, only to wring her hands together. Her bottom lip quivers before she sinks her teeth into it. Her gaze bounces from me to Gunner and then to the weather-beaten boards at her feet. She's stressed out and scared but trying like hell not to show it. I don't know if it's simply who she is as a person, or who she's been forced to become to survive, but she doesn't like to be vulnerable or cede what little control she has.
I file that away with everything else I've learned about her and then escort her to my Tahoe. Once her bags are in the back, I help her inside, being careful to touch her as little as possible when she cowers against the seat. If I see Sanders anytime soon, I may break his jaw for making her leery of me. I don't fucking like it. At all.
As she gives up her fight with her seatbelt and reluctantly allows me to help her fasten it, I decide I'm going to help her overcome her aversion to being touched. Though whether my decision is for her benefit or my own, I can't even begin to guess.
"You ready?" I ask, striving to keep my tone light once I'm settled in beside her.
She nods, refusing to look at me.
I sigh softly and pull out, slowing to wait for Gunner to fall in line behind us.
Chapter Six
Faith
"You really live here?" I eye Octavio doubtfully as he pulls into the driveway of a single-story ranch style house in the middle of a small neighborhood in Tarzana. The house is an off-white color, with green shutters and a small garage in the back. The neighborhood is honestly one of the nicest ones I've seen in a long time. It looks like the kind of place you'd raise a family. As far as I've been able to tell, he doesn't have a family. At least I don't think he does. Would he ask me to live with him if he did?
"Yeah, conejita," he says, a smile in his voice. "I really live here." He puts his SUV in park and then kills the engine before turning to face me. "Roman Gregory and his fiancée live right next door. And a guy by the name of Trevor Buckley lives on the other side of them. He does personal security."
"Okay," I murmur, not sure why he's telling me this.
"If I ever do anything that scares you, I want you to walk right out the front door and go to one of them," he says, his normally deep growl soft and serious. The same sincerity lights his sepia eyes, warming them. "Tell them you're afraid, and they'll keep you safe, okay?"
I blink slowly, taken off guard by his request. The tone of his voice tells me that he's serious. He fully expects me to walk out and go find help if he does anything that scares me. The block of ice in my stomach thaws as warmth shoots through me.