Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Her and those gorgeous green eyes.
Her and that sweet little voice.
Her and the way she smiles at me like I'm the center of her world.
Her and the terror in her voice as she hid in the closet.
Her and the fucking silence on the line when we lost contact while she was still inside.
Please, God, tell me she made it out of there.
Up close, the nightmarish scene is even more horrific. The bottom floor of the townhouse is entirely engulfed in flames, and smoke billows from the top in massive black waves. Half the firefighters on scene work to keep the fire from spreading to neighboring homes. The other half aims their hoses at the townhouse, trying to beat back the flames. The fire burns so fucking hot I feel the heat scorching at my skin.
God, baby, please tell me you aren't still in there.
A sob builds in my chest at the thought, breaking from my lips in a tortured groan. I push through the line of firefighters attacking the fire, elbowing my way between them.
I fucking promised to keep her safe.
Someone grabs me, rough hands grasping and holding me back as I try to duck underneath the tape stretched across the roadway. I fight, shoving them off me in an attempt to get inside to Mila.
"You can't go in there, Gregory," Octavio Hernandez, an LAPD detective and close friend, yells in my ear.
I shake him off, flinging him away from me. He lands on his ass on the roadway with a shouted curse.
A ferocious snarl rips from my lips as another LAPD officer grabs for me, trying to contain me. I don't know who he is or where the fuck he came from, and I don't really care. I fling him off, too, and slam my elbow into his face. Bone crunches, blood splattering from his broken nose.
"Goddammit, Roman!" Finn shouts from behind me.
Someone else yells something, and then a foot hits the back of my thigh so hard it knocks me to the ground. I land on my knees, and spring back up in an instant, spinning toward the source of that kick.
Hernandez and two LAPD officers I don't know back away from me with their hands in the air. The other is still on his ass, blood pouring from his broken nose.
"Settle down," Finn snaps, getting right up in my face, and I know he's the one who kicked me.
"Do not fucking touch me again," I growl at him, taking an offensive stance. He's damn near the same height I am, and has about sixty pounds on me. I will fucking kill him if that's what it takes, but I actually respect him enough to know I'll regret it if this comes to blows between us.
"Think, man," he says quietly. Sweat trickles down his bald head as he stares me down, not intimidated by the fury pumping through me.
Finn is a hard ass. Since the day I met him, he's been one tough son of a bitch, willing to go toe-to-toe with anyone. He's survived shootouts, stab wounds, and a hit from the Mafia. He doesn't take any shit and isn't scared of anything. That fearlessness isn't what I see in his gaze as he stares at me, though. The only thing swirling through his brown eyes is sympathy and regret.
And that about brings me to my fucking knees.
"You can't go in there," he says.
"She needs me," I growl, even though I know he's right. I can't fucking go in there.
She trusted me to protect her, to keep her safe, and I fucking failed her. If she's in there…Fuck. If she's in there, it's already too late for her. She's dead.
Oh God, Mila.
I drop to my knees as the thought breaks me wide open. A strangled sob rips from my lips. My stomach twists and heaves.
I lean forward and vomit right there as pain like I've never felt before tears through me, eviscerating me. It's torture, shredding me apart cell by cell. Every little bit of air in my lungs expels in a rush. My heart fractures, cracking in half.
She trusted me, and I didn't keep her safe.
Her name erupts from my lips in a broken groan, so fucking loud, it hurts to hear it.
"Shit," Finn curses, and then he's on his knees beside me, his hand on my shoulder as I fall apart.
One of the other officers standing around says something to him, but I don't hear him. I don't hear much of anything. Don't feel anything but pain. Mila's name echoes through my head over and over, each recitation decimating another piece of me. Her smile plays through my mind, ripping through me like a wrecking ball.
"Roman," Finn says, his fingers digging into my shoulder. His voice sounds far away, distorted.
I turn my head in his direction, staring blankly.