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)
Tears filled her eyes, but he told himself this, too, was necessary.
"I just—-"
"Just leave, dammit," Flint snarled out. He hated seeing the tears roll down her cheeks, hated himself for still wanting her even when he knew it was wrong. "If you care about keeping Sunlight alive, you'll do as I fucking say."
All he heard next was silence, and the sound was punishing and deafening. He knew he should let it end there, but instead he found himself once again checking the rearview mirror—-and his stomach dropped.
I felt something under his fur.
His mind raced as he connected the dots, and the truth hit him like a punch in the gut.
The stitches Elizabeth had felt under Sunlight’s fur, the ease with which they’d retrieved the dog—it had all been too convenient.
The bastard had been fucking with them from the start, and Flint had walked right into the trap.
Everything they had done, perhaps even from the moment they had visited Bucks to buy back Sunlight’s collar—
It had all been a fucking game.
And it was a game where all the fucking odds were in Dantes' favor.
"Get ready," he said tersely. "We're being followed."
Her eyes widened, her lips parting in a silent cry of dismay.
"They implanted a tracker in Sunlight. They wanted us to take her—-"
An SUV charged toward them out of nowhere, cutting his words short as Flint barely had enough time to slam on the brakes. Elizabeth's head banged against the window as their tires screeched to a stop.
Armed men spilled out of the other vehicle, surrounding them.
Game. Fucking. Over.
Culo
FLINT AND I ARE ON our knees inside of Migs’—I mean, Culo’s—bulletproof van. His men stand behind us, the muzzles of their guns pressing against the back of our heads. And seated in front of us is Culo himself, who’s acting strangely twitchy for someone who holds all of the cards in his hand.
The van looks as if it's been given a makeover...for war. A built-in armory of guns and ammunition on one side, a rooftop window with a mounted turret just in case they want to gun anyone down, and even chains and cuffs bolted to the ceiling to torture their captives on the go.
A single overhead bulb casts sinister shadows across the space, but what makes me sick with dread is how it shines directly down on Culo, and I finally see the monster underneath his cultivated image of a well-dressed man about town.
There's always been something off about him no matter how nice he always is. But I never could find the right words to describe it...until now.
It's the emptiness of his eyes. Brilliantly blue like the skies, but they're completely dead, and that...that terrifies me.
"Look at me."
The calmness of Flint's tone rescues me from my panic, but I find myself biting back a sob when I turn my gaze to his, and I see the blood trickling down the side of his face.
Oh, Flint.
His violet eyes capture mine. "It's alright. I won't let anything happen to you."
Culo laughs at this, and so do the rest of his men.
But I don't care, and all I can think right now is how so, so silly it was for me to let my pain drive my actions.
Yes, it did hurt to hear Flint say in not so many words that I mean nothing to him.
But it doesn't mean I should let that be the final say about what we have. This may sound crazy, but I know now that I love him. And if we ever survive this, I'll tell him so.
If being the operative word.
“You just don’t give up, do you, Harding?"
How strange, I can’t help thinking again. I’ve never heard Culo talk in such a high-pitched tone before. Flint and I are outnumbered and outgunned, so why is he acting like it’s the opposite way around?
"Would you, in my position?"
It’s easy to see that the calmness of Flint’s tone has the same effect on Culo. He finds it maddening as heck, just like I did.
“Why would you even ask that? Yes, I will. Hell yes, I’d have fucking given up a long time ago.” Culo shoots Flint an accusing glare. “And you know why that is?”*
“Should I give it a guess? Does it have anything to do with you not growing a pair—”
“Fuck you!”
My heart breaks at seeing Culo’s spit landing on Flint’s expressionless face. But at the same time, I can also feel my shock wearing off with the way Culo keeps acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum.*
I know I still need to be careful. A false sense of security can still get me killed. But on the other hand, I’m finding it a lot easier to think more clearly, and I’m hoping and praying...
Please, God.
Is there anything I can do to help Flint and me survive this?
“I already offered you money,” Culo rages at Flint. “And sure, I’ve been hearing stories about you having money yourself, but who doesn’t need more money? So why can’t you just fucking stop making trouble for me?”