Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
The banter between us makes me want to knock my head against the dashboard. It's as if we're playing out a scene from a rom-com...when in reality, one of us is being held at gunpoint.
It's those violet eyes of his, darn it.
They're weapons of masculine destruction, just like the rest of him is.
He's more formidable than big, more sinister than dangerous, and...that's why I absolutely have no excuse to suddenly find myself in a car with him.
Idiot, idiot, idiot!
"Take a right turn there, please."
What's done is gone, I remind myself forcefully. So just focus on getting out of this in one piece.
"And left now, please."
"A hitchhiker with manners."
"We come in all shapes and sizes. And another left, please."
"Ah."
"What does that mean?"
My stomach starts twisting in knots, and my hands feel clammy inside my gloves. All I see outside is snow against a vast sheet of darkness, made only visible when struck by the twin blazes of the car's headlights.
"Bucks is the only establishment up this road."
A violent gust of wind batters the side of the car, and my heart starts pounding against my chest.
"You know it?"
"Acquainted with it."
"Acquainted..."
"It means—-"
"I know what it means."
"But you just didn't expect a cowboy like me would. Is that it?"
Sunlight
"I'M SORRY I HAVE TO do this."
"Your hands are shaking. Is it your first time cuffing a man?"
"I think you already know the answer to that," I mutter under my breath.
"So...not even when you're playing games with your boyfriend?"
I'm about to tell him I've never had a boyfriend...but catch myself in time.
Or at least I thought I did...until I see the way his violet eyes are gleaming knowingly at me.
Ugh.
I tighten the handcuffs around him, just enough to make him wince, and my mood brightens. Good.
That should teach him.
He may be a foot taller than I am, and more than twice my weight, but I'm the person with the gun, and he's the one cuffed to the steering wheel.
That means I'm still in control.
Right?
Or does he want me to think I am...even when I'm not?
I don't want to look into his eyes, but avoiding his gaze feels like surrendering the upper hand.
Just get it over with, Liz.
I lift my head...and fight against the immediate urge to look away.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
Everything about this guy is too hot to be real, and that's what makes me feel like I'm the biggest idiot alive.
I had a plan, darn it.
But one look into his violet eyes, and everything about it went flying out of the window.
"What exactly is your plan here?"
His sudden question catches me off guard, but it's the maddening calmness of his voice that I find frighteningly disconcerting.
I'm still in control.
Right?
"Do you even know what Bucks is?"
Instinct warns me to keep my mouth shut, but this only makes his gaze narrow at me.
"It's where people go when they need to sell something quick—-"
Why do I have a bad feeling about this?
"—-without being asked any questions."
I'm out of the car in a flash, and I'm finding it harder and harder to breathe with every step I take.
Please, God. Please.
The words come out of nowhere. I've never even prayed before, and I don't even know if He'd care to listen.
Help me save him.
But when you're desperate, there's nothing you won't try.
Please.
My heart thuds against my chest as I climb up the snow-covered steps of Bucks. It looks like any old farmhouse on the outside. But as soon as I'm past its doors, it's as if I've stepped into another world, and it's one where I'm completely out of place.
Over a dozen armed men are standing guard, and at the center sits an older man behind a metal table scarred by nicks, scratches, and bullet holes.
Everyone here looks as if they eat death for breakfast, lunch, and dinner...while the most dangerous thing I've ever done in my life - aside from taking someone hostage - is forgetting my gloves when it was time to give my baby a medicated bath.
"Hello, miss. Are you lost?"
His friendly tone is an invitation of trust, but all it does is remind me of how nice Migs also sounded while threatening me over the phone.
I can feel everyone watching me as I move forward. They're obviously not taking any chances, not even with someone like me.
"I'm looking for a gold-plated collar." I was hoping to come across as confident, but the opposite happens when the words come tumbling out in a high-pitched squeak.
Way to go, Liz.
Not.
"We have a number of those in our collections. Perhaps you could be more specific?"
"It has Sunlight—-"
My voice trails off when I see the old man start scribbling on his tablet.
"You can have it back for this amount."
I feel like throwing up when I see what he's written.
$1000
"But since you're potentially a new customer, we're giving you a discount."
He crosses the old figure out and writes a new one.