Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92559 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 463(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
The male flushed. “I worry, you know. About everything that happens here. Loose strings, things that feel messy? I cannot abide by them.”
“Understood.” Putting a hand on the solicitor’s shoulder, Tohr nodded. “And that’s why you’re so good at your job—”
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he held up his forefinger as he took it out. “’Scuse me.”
When he got a look at who it was, he frowned. “Hey, Hollywood, what’s—”
Rhage’s words came hard and fast. And when the report was finished, Tohr cursed under his breath. “I’ll be right there. Yeah, I know the address.”
As he ended the call, Saxton said, “Is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not.” Tohr gave the folder back to the solicitor and headed for the door. “You need to take that to V, right now. I’ll check in when I can.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The Adirondack great camp was a sprawling, cedar-shingled throwback to the cusp of the twentieth century, when a class of humans with railroad, coal, and banking wealth built wilderness retreats away from the hot lock of Manhattan’s summer swelter. With log post supports on its wraparound porch, chimneys at the peaks of its roof, and diamond-paned windows, the structure was both grand and charming in its blanket of snow, the tendrils of smoke and all the yellow light glowing out of that old-fashioned bubbled glass a halo of homeyness.
The plowed lane passed an outbuilding and circled up to the front entrance, and Apex stopped the SUV in front of the porch steps. He’d barely hit the brakes when Mayhem opened his door and jumped out.
While the male shot around to the other side, Apex glanced over his shoulder. “Your father doesn’t know you’re here, does he.”
Mahrci stared down at her bloody glove. “No, he doesn’t.”
“So you called off the mating.” When she didn’t reply, he shrugged. “Why else would you run up here?”
The door beside the female opened and Mayhem leaned in. His eyes had a focus that Apex had never seen before—not that he was all that close with the guy—and when Mahrci insisted that she could get out herself, the guy looked like she’d volunteered to walk into a volcano carrying a gas can.
But she got out and even managed to stand. For a second or two.
As she listed to the side, Mayhem was ready to be her fetch-and-carry again, scooping her into his arms before she face-planted on the shoveled walkway.
“Ah, the romance,” Apex muttered to himself.
Sure enough, Mayhem carried her up onto the porch as if he were holding a treasure in his arms, and at the door, she did the duty on the latch, opening things for them. They disappeared inside, leaving the entrance wide, just like the rear car door.
“Thanks.” Apex cursed and curled his hands on the steering wheel and squeezed. “And don’t worry about all the Antarctica around here.”
Except he didn’t really feel the cold leaching into the SUV, either.
Nah, all he could think about was heading back out the lane and seeing if that truck was still there. And if it was, he was inclined to just put shit in park and wait it out.
The wolven would return for it, sooner or later.
Pride was what stopped him.
In the last couple of decades, Apex had made no secret where he was in Caldwell—and he’d stayed in touch with Lucan, who was part of that wolven clan on the mountain. If Callum was here, on this estate? He was a matter of mere miles from his home territory, and it was difficult to believe that the subject of the prison, the breakout, and where everybody had ended up hadn’t been broached at least once.
If only because Lucan was a nosy sonofabitch and he’d want to test the waters.
Everyone in the prison had known about Apex sitting by that bed for all those nights. The nursing routine had been the kind of about-face that people couldn’t sync with his reputation—
A set of headlights blared through the blizzard and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
Turning in his seat, he watched out the side window as the truck with the beat-to-crap plow turned in to one of the outbuildings and stopped.
As the motion-activated security lights flared, Apex’s hand grabbed for the latch before he could think about what he was doing, and the next thing he knew, he was cutting across the distance, marking a fresh-cut trail of boot punches over the pristine snowpack. As those headlights were killed, the truck’s driver’s door opened on the other side of the vehicle.
He picked up his pace—
In the bright light of the exterior lanterns, he caught sight of that white hair . . . just a hint showing above the top of the cab.
Now he slowed down. Then stopped about ten feet away. He opened his mouth to say something, but he had no voice and told himself it was because he was swallowing too many flakes.