Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Inside the top drawer, not even the Bible had been spared the damage to the rest of the room, the cover torn off, and the words Damien was here written on the title page.
“Okay. Alright,” I said, taking a single moment to just stand there, breathing.
Before I was jumping into action again.
I looked at the door with its handle and chain lock, then made my way into the closet, interconnecting a few hangers, then sliding it through one of the chairs, and attaching the chain to the handle.
They weren’t amazing hangers.
They wouldn’t hold if someone was determined enough.
But they might bide me time to escape through the bathroom window.
All of the furniture was bolted down, so I couldn’t do anything else save for take the plastic cup from the bathroom that I would never put my lips on, not even if I used the hand soap to clean it, and place it on the windowsill, figuring that if I dozed off, and someone tried to get in, it would fall and wake me.
I didn’t turn on the TV, not even if it would help the anxiety bubbling through my system once I sat down, and the adrenaline fell away.
Storm, seeming to sense something not being quite right, came over as I sat on the chair, and laid on my feet.
He looked up at me, those sweet eyes questioning.
“I know. I miss him too,” I said, feeling the tears stinging my eyes.
I didn’t even pretend to fight them.
I just let them fall.
Useless, but endless.
I kept my lips closed tightly, not wanting anyone aware that a lonely, vulnerable woman was in this room if they were passing by.
I couldn’t tell you how much time went by as the alarm clock on the nightstand kept flashing a neon midnight endlessly.
But it felt like hours before, suddenly, Storm sat up, ears pricked, posture tense.
“What is it?” I whispered, knowing better than to assume his instincts were up. He never snarled at people, not even shady strangers on the street.
My gaze whipped around, looking for something, anything that I could use as a weapon. But the place was bare bones.
And even the damn lamp was bolted down.
His growl intensified, making me grab for his collar, holding onto it as I clipped his leash back on, wanting him close in case we had to make a run for it. I would have to… toss him out of the window ahead of me. Not ideal, but the only option.
He yanked against my hold, making my ribs scream in objection.
The door handle jiggled, making my mind flash with visions of Neeley and his men, then the motel manager, and I wasn’t even entirely sure which fate would be worse.
But then, suddenly, there was a surprisingly gentle knock.
Could it be, like, housekeeping?
It was late for that, right?
Storm snarled, then finally broke free of my hold, bounding to the door, and barking menacingly.
“Storm!” a voice called, making me jolt
How did they know my dog’s name?
But Storm immediately shut up, ears pulled back.
And his tail wagging.
Wagging?
I could barely hear anything over the whoosh of my blood in my ears, the pounding of my heart in my chest.
But through all of it, I could just make the words out.
“Mills, open up.”
Silvano?
No.
That wasn’t possible.
My mind had to be playing tricks on me.
There was no way he could know where we were.
“Mills, come on. Open up,” he said as I took tentative steps forward, trying to decide if my mind was letting me hear what I wanted to instead of what I was really hearing. “It’s shady as fuck out here.”
That… that was such a Silvano thing to say.
It had to be him.
I flew at the door, fingers frantically yanking at the clothes hangers, then pulling the chain before, finally, unlocking and yanking open the door.
Sure enough, there he was.
Eyes worried.
But shoulders relaxing just seeing me.
I flew at him, ignoring the pain in my side and the awkwardness of my cast as I wrapped him around the neck, and buried my face in his chest, smelling his familiar spicy scent.
“It’s okay,” he assured me, one arm anchored around me, the other reaching down to pet Storm’s head as he walked me into the room. “It’s alright. I’m here.”
And, somehow, I knew everything, everything would be okay now.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Silvano
“You got a piece?” I asked as we neared my apartment building.
“Yeah,” Nero said, touching his gun under his jacket. “Want me to come in?”
“No,” I said, reaching for my own gun. “But keep an eye on the streets.”
“What am I looking for?”
“A crew who looks like they’re looking for someone. Or who has my girl.”
“Who’s your girl?” he asked as I started to climb out of the car, my heartbeat slamming against my ribcage.
“Red hair. Gorgeous. Can’t miss her. Has a shepherd mix puppy.”
With that, I flew into my building, not even wasting my time with the elevator, just charging up the staircase that opened right across from my apartment.