Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“Roger that. Good luck.”
I hang up, switch off my phone, and stash it back in my suitcase. I remove the ghost-gun, a simple, short barrel of 3D-printed polymer with a single bolt-action trigger at its base. I inspect it, lever the action once to make sure it’s working, and am just about to replace it when I hear Layla’s voice.
“You have been lying to me.”
I look up to see her standing in the bathroom door, fully dressed, staring at me in absolute horror. “Layla!” I’m blown. She may not be a spy, but she can definitely recognize a firearm when she sees one. “I thought you were–”
“In the shower?” she asks. “Yeah, I just turned on the water and listened at the door. Guess you’re not the only one who knows how to hide their movements.”
“Sweetheart, I–”
“Who were you talking to?” she asks. “And is that a gun?”
There’s no lie that can save me now. I’ve been brought out of the darkness and into the light. But maybe the truth still has a chance.
“Yes.” I nod. “It is. But–”
But before I can finish, Layla darts for the door.
My training kicks into gear, and I spring up and snatch her up in my arms just before she reaches it, clamping my hand over her mouth as she struggles to scream.
“Calm down,” I whisper, adrenaline instantly pulsing through my veins. Christ, it’s all falling apart now.
I carry Layla, kicking and thrashing like an angry cat, over to the bed and press her down onto the mattress. She bites hard into the palm of my hand, drawing blood, but I keep it there. If anyone hears her screams, we’re both dead. They’ll know who I am–what I am–and they’ll assume Layla also knew and brought me here.
“Please, calm down,” I plead. “I’m not going to hurt you. But I do need to keep you quiet. So I apologize for this.”
I quickly strip a pillow of its case, then pull my hand away from her mouth and force the fabric inside, gagging her. My hand may be bleeding, but my heart is dying as I tie off the gag behind her head and pin her arms to her sides.
“Layla, please,” I say with as much love in my voice as I can muster. “I hate having to do this, but I need you to listen to me now.”
I’m pretty sure I hear her scream, “Fuck you!” at me through the gag, but her voice is muffled by the cloth.
“Please, baby, just listen.” I gulp down a breath and try to calm myself. This is exactly what I didn’t want happening. “I admit I’ve been lying to you. I didn’t want to, but I had no choice. Now I’m going to tell you the truth.”
I have two options now and no control over either of them.
Either I tell Layla and she believes me and accepts everything I tell her. Or I tell her and she refuses me and sides with her uncle. Then I’ll have only one choice left with how to deal with my situation. And that choice would destroy me.
“My name isn’t Taylor,” I say, my voice heavy. “It’s Ryder. Ryder Vance. I’m a CIA operative on a mission to track down and eliminate your uncle. I was supposed to use you to get to him. I watched you for weeks before we met. I staged your attack on the street so I could rescue you. Those men were also operatives.”
Layla’s eyes go wide with betrayal. My words are like acid on my tongue.
“I needed a way in with you. To get you to trust me. I needed to get close to you so we could discover your uncle’s location. I thought I could handle it, but then I met you…”
This is killing me. I want to remove her gag. I want to release her. I want to somehow take her away from here–somewhere we will both be safe together and this whole nightmare will be gone. Her legs kick up against me. She wriggles beneath me. I feel her breasts against my chest and the warmth of her body radiating into mine. Even in this terrible moment, I want to strip her nude and fuck her. Maybe I could make her come so hard she just forgets everything that happened since we landed in Mexico. I slip one hand up between her thighs and feel the dampness soaking through the sheer fabric of her pants. Even in this heated moment, her body can’t hide the fact that she craves my touch.
“I met you, Layla, and I fell in love with you.” This isn’t the first time I’ve told her I love her, but for some reason this time feels like a confession. “I knew you were my one and only before we even met. All I want to do is protect you, sweetheart. Guard you and love you with all my heart for the rest of our lives.”