Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
When Steven asked for my number, I looked at Will because I was confused. He said it was okay, but his hands were possessively screaming that I was his.
Maybe we’re two fucked up people who no time soon would discover what love is. Well, certainly not Will, who already had his great love. But if anything, Will reminded me of something that feels like it’s missing from my own life.
It was just sex, just fun, yet we’ve slowly been becoming attached to each other. Or maybe that was just me, and I’m romanticizing something that isn’t there. I mean, Maria does it all the time, so why would it be so different for me?
I pinch the bridge of my nose. When did I get so sappy?
It was great sex. Nothing more. Nothing less. And yet the way he looked at me when I walked away was as if someone had stolen his puppy.
I harden my resolve, deciding to focus on what has always gotten me by. I was the only one I could depend on, and in less than two weeks, I’ll be back in London—end of story.
I tip the Uber driver as I step out of the car, rubbing my shoulders at the chill in the air. The front porch light turns on, and I’m not surprised to find Mom still awake, watching one of her favorite dramas on TV.
“You’re back earlier than I expected,” she says as she mutes the TV. I bend over to undo my heels at the door. When I don’t say anything, she comes over and leans against the wall. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, the night just shifted quickly, is all,” I reply, not wanting to elaborate. Once I kick the heels off, my phone dings in my purse. When I check it, I see a message from a number I don’t recognize and see Steven’s name at the end. “There were some people there I went to school with,” I tell her. “Remember Steven, the guy I dated for like two months or something?”
“Oh, yes. You broke up with him because he had bad breath if I remember correctly.” I laugh at that, then push off the door and kiss her cheek.
“And what about your actual date? Where did Will go?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
I sigh. “He had a work thing.”
“A bounty hunter, here of all places. Can you imagine?”
I laugh. “Don’t let him catch you saying, bounty hunter. But I think we’re over. We had a fun ride, but I’m off to London, and he’s doing whatever he does best.” I step around her, hoping that’s enough to end the conversation.
“I liked him. I want that noted,” she says.
“Okay, thanks for your input, Mother,” I yell over my shoulder as I walk up the stairs.
“That won’t be the last time you see that man. You can bet your bottom dollar it won’t be. He was hooked.”
I want to laugh at her words, because they couldn’t be further from the truth.
And yet, it settles a cold and upsetting weight in my chest. And this is precisely why I had to break it off now. Because Will wormed into a part of myself that I didn’t even know still existed.
And that’s dangerous.
My phone dings and I expect to see Steven’s name again, but instead it’s an unknown number.
You can’t hide forever.
CHAPTER 43
Will
Alek is disassembling the man’s gun in front of him. Not that the man in question can do anything with it, considering he’s tied to a chair.
I go through the motions, not having yet picked up another job. It’s only been three days since I last saw Alina, but it hasn’t sat right with me—the moment she walked away from me on that bridge.
“I don’t know anything, I swear!” the man screams before Alek gags him.
Of all the killers I know, Alek is the boldest. He adjusts his gloves as he decides which torture device he should use. It’s midday, and for someone who’s usually active in the evening, like a boogey monster, Alek has taken to torture during the day. Sure, it’s an isolated space that no one will find, but he was changing, ever so slightly, to accommodate his wife’s schedule so he can watch her performances at night.
I sigh. The guy’s so fucking lovesick that it irritates me. I’m happy for him, but there’s an almost begrudging feeling that I notice toward him for having it. For feeling like the one who I’d had was already gone.
“You being quiet is eerily creepy.” Alek addresses my sorry ass where I stand in the corner of the room.
I smirk. “So you admit to missing my smartass comments?”
“No. I just don’t know why you haven’t taken up another job. Why do you keep attaching yourself to me?”
“That’s what friends do, silly.” I wink, and he’s disgusted, most likely at the suggestion of calling us ‘friends.’ Good. That should keep him off my ass for a little bit.