Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“What was that about?”
“Always with the questions.”
“Always avoiding the answers.” I push him back and swing my legs to the side, hopping down from the desk.
“I sent some brothers to the shipyard to empty the Devils’ container. But there’s some issue with a new guy who can’t find the container number.”
“Seems beneath you. Can’t the brothers deal with it?” I bite my lip, my eyes hooded.
“If you want something done right…”—he licks his lips, his gaze drifting up my body—“you have to do it yourself.”
“Is that so?” I cup my tit, taking his advice.
“Not what I meant.” He’s on me before finishing his sentence, shoving me against the wall. “I have some time.”
Sliding from his hold, I wag my finger and slip out the door. “Go do what you’ve got to do—and I’ll do the same.”
“Rogue…” he warns, low and gruff.
“If you hurry, you can help finish me.”
Leaving him wanting, I head for his room, exhaustion worming through my limbs. I get halfway there when my phone vibrates. The walls narrow in on me. My hands shake. My lungs seize. Like it’s a bomb about to detonate, I slide my phone from my pocket and sag against the wall, my heart hammering in my ribcage.
Tyler: Meet me now.
CHAPTER 15
PRINCESS
I clasp the phone to my chest, hiding the message on instinct.
Go tell Callan. Go tell Callan. Go tell Callan.
No.
Footfalls sound from down the hall, and I take off running, bypassing Callan’s bedroom and heading for the garage.
Rushing inside, I crouch behind one of the bikes and hold my breath. The door opens a few moments later and Callan walks in, Monster by his side. “Bikes?” Monster asks. My heart skips a beat.
“No. SUV in case we need to go to Mallick’s house and stick him in the trunk,” Callan says, tossing a set of keys to Monster. They climb into one of the SUVs, and the shutter shifts, lifting with a clanking sound. Light bleeds in, kissing every corner of the space. I move around the bike to keep myself obscured. As soon as they’re out of sight, I rush to the cabinet, stealing Kitty’s keys.
My mind screams at me as I climb into Kitty’s SUV and bring the engine to life. I’ll get answers from him, then I’ll decide whether to text Callan our location.
Picking up my phone, I type back.
Me: Where?
As I pull out of the garage, my eyes dart left and right to make sure Callan left the compound. I slowly bring the car to the gates. A pulse of apprehension thuds through me, and I hit the radio to drown out the rising panic.
Creaking metal signals the gate doors widening, and I tap nervously on the steering wheel until there’s enough space to get through.
Consciously, I keep my speed low, the idea of ending up behind Callan raising the hairs on my neck.
Vibrating startles me. “Fuck, calm down.” I will myself, checking the incoming text.
Tyler: Your motel.
My heart kicks a heavy rhythm, and my palms begin to sweat, causing me to almost drop the phone. The motel. Has he been there looking for me or staying right under our noses?
Flitting my thumb over the keypad, I type back. On my way.
Fear trickles into my veins as the reality of what I’m actually doing settles in my brain.
Tyler isn’t a man you underestimate, and I’m handing myself over on a silver platter without a weapon. I scan the car, opening the glove compartment, and shuffle some papers around. Nothing. Sliding my hand under the seat, I check the rim in the hopes Kitty or Tim hid a gun there.
“Dammit.”
Darting my eyes from the road to the phone in the cup holder beside me, I notice a compartment. I lift the lid, a grin raising my cheeks. A small switchblade sits amongst a handful of coins.
I love you, Kitty.
I shove the blade into my shoe and take the exit to the motel.
Daylight begins to dim, the setting sun casting orange and pink through the sky over the motel when I pull in.
Shifting the car into a parking space, I roam my eyes across the lot, my fingers drumming on the wheel. Rows of beige doors stare back at me, and a kid shouting at his mom at the vending machine grates on my frayed nerves. I grab my phone and type:
Me: I’m here.
Making sure the switchblade is secure, I turn the engine off and step out of the car. Traffic whizzes past, and people stand at the lights waiting to cross. Everyone is going about their ordinary lives. I envy them.
Tyler: Walk around the motel. I want to make sure you weren’t followed.
I read his text, and my eyes shift over the doors and windows of the motel rooms. No movement.
“Just pick one or have nothing,” a woman barks at the kid standing in front of a vending machine as I walk past. I offer her a tight smile and tuck my hair behind my ear before folding my arms, keeping my phone tightly in my grip to call Callan if I need to. Rounding the side of the building, goosebumps pebble my flesh. Trashcans line the graffiti-covered walls. The space narrows into an alleyway the farther I inch down it, my gaze focused on a truck idling a few feet from the exit.