Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Yes.” We both nod in unison, then glare at each other when we realize we’re agreeing.
“Go on,” I tell her.
“So you have to draw Armand out. The guys haven’t found him yet, but you know that he’s lying in wait, just biding his time for a chance to come and ruin everything. Right?”
“Right,” Violet says, warily. “Hard to do when everything’s already ruined,” she mutters under her breath.
I grip the steering wheel even tighter.
“Listen to me. Armand’s a coward, right? That’s like his trademark, isn’t it?”
“It is.”
“So what will make this easier for him? What would a coward do? Cain, what does he have that he can use against you?”
I swallow hard. I don’t want to say it out loud. “Cain,” Skylar prods. “C’mon.”
“The bullshit I did to Violet,” I confess. Makes me feel like I want to throw up.
“So, easy solution, then, isn’t it?” Skylar says triumphantly. “Easy peasy.”
Violet scowls. “Let’s hear it.”
“You go out alone. He doesn’t know that she already knows the bullshit you pulled, does he?”
I shake my head.
“You act like you’re still in love. Kiss or… whatever,” she says with a wrinkled nose. “And then, separate. Like, Violet goes her way and Cain goes his. And if my suspicion’s right, Armand will come for you to tell you the awful truth, Violet. You pretend to be shocked and outraged and to leave, and boom.”
“Boom what?”
“That’s where you come in, and you get the answers you need. Got it?”
Pretend to be into each other. Pretend to be in love.
It sounds so much easier than it is.
I grit my teeth. “Got it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Violet
The rollercoaster ride of emotion I’m on today is killing me.
He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not.
It’s hard to reconcile the man I’ve fallen in love with… the man who knows me, who sees me, really truly sees me for who I am, with the same man who confessed to me today.
I can’t get past what he told me. I can’t reconcile my need for him, for us...with the need for truth and trust. How could I ever trust a man who would lie to me like that?
But at the same time… how could I walk away from everything? From Skylar and the boys, the house on the hill and my training ground… from Cain, who’s become my best friend?
My throat aches. I swallow hard and try to stay focused.
And then finding out I’m worth so much money… I can hardly wrap my brain around it. I’m a merry-go-round of emotions.
I have enough to live on for the rest of my life.
But I have a mission to fulfill, and I won’t rest until I’ve done so. I can’t. I won’t.
My parents died because someone thought it best to seek vengeance. I grew up parentless because of someone driven to retaliation. That can’t go unpunished.
We arrive at the house, operating under the assumption that Armand… or whoever he’s working for or with… is watching us.
Pretend to be in love, Skylar says.
How can I do that? How can I let him touch me again, knowing I have to leave? Knowing the truth?
“Cain,” I say, holding myself aloof and hopefully being professional, because I can’t get personal with him right now, I just can’t. Cain’s made damn sure neither of us is being bugged, but there’s no telling who’s following us right now, so I keep my voice low.
“Yeah?”
“He won’t come to your house. He knows that this place is a fortress and he’d never make it out alive. We have to go to a place to bait him.”
“Right,” he says through gritted teeth. “We could go to the beach…”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “He wouldn’t have the balls. He followed us on the highway, though, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” he says, stroking his chin. I want to be those fingers, grazing over the hard stubble on his jaw. Touching him. Stroking him. I swallow the lump in my throat.
I could get a two-bedroom apartment, far, far away from here. I’ll get a job teaching martial arts, and maybe a dog…
“…and he’ll have easy access to the highway or more, won’t he?”
I blink, realizing I just missed half of what he said. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. Say that again?”
Normally, when I lose focus, I get that stern look he likes to give me or anyone on his staff, or some kind of reproach. I’m used to it. I don’t like when people space out when I’m talking to them either, and I know he’s the kind of guy who values respect. But this time, he doesn’t look upset with me. He doesn’t look angry. Instead, his jaw slackens, and his voice softens when he talks to me.
“Baby, where’d you go just now?”
No. No, no, no, NO.
“You can’t…” My voice is thick and strained. I swallow, clear my throat, then push through. “Don’t call me that. I told you. I’m Miss Price now.”