Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I scowl, because I don’t have the time to play detective. “That’s ridiculous. I’ll start with tracking his phone.”
“You really mean… now? It’s two in the morning. It’s not like we can get to him tonight.”
“Why not?” I ask, plucking out my phone already. “I have a guy. I could call Grass, pretend I’m someone else for long enough that we get an approximate location for him.”
Rowan gets up with a growing frown. “That sounds like a great plan… for tomorrow. Why would we rush like that?”
Maybe because time is ticking? Maybe because I need to be sure he’s mine, no questions asked? But I can’t say that without sounding like a nutjob. I have in fact learned my lesson.
“Why do you want to stall?” I ask him, meeting his gaze, and the cartoon reindeer sticker wrapped around the pillar behind his back mocks me with a wide grin, as if it knows something I don’t.
“I can think of better things we could do tonight once we’re done here.” Rowan wiggles his eyebrows, and while his words frustrate me, I can’t ignore how pretty he looks right now, dressed all in black, with a smudge of blood on his forehead where he must have pushed his hair out of his eyes.
He’s fucking perfect, and I need to have him. If Otto slips through our hands, our relationship will sour even if he stays, and I can’t have that.
“Oh really? What kinds of things?” I ask, already browsing through my list of contacts, because I am not sabotaging the thing I need with the thing I happen to want in the moment.
He comes closer and scoots down to kiss me through the mask. “You know what kind of things…”
Thank fuck my guy is online and happy to take my request (and my money).
Rowan’s dark eyes suck me in like twin voids, but I need to focus.
“No, we’ll go as soon as we get an address.”
I hate the look of disappointment on Rowan’s face, but it’s for his own good. He gets back up with a groan and spreads his arms. “Fine. I guess I’ll just drink five Red Bulls or something. Speaking of drinking, I need to go pee.” He points to Brown. “Okay if I leave for a sec?”
It’s not an extreme reaction, but now that he planted the seed of doubt in my head, I can’t let things rest. I’ll only be at peace once Otto Grass is six feet under. Or burnt to cinders. Or dissolved in acid. Whatever’s most convenient. “Sure. There’s bathrooms down the hall, by the food court.”
He doesn’t seem pleased when he turns around and starts walking, but we can’t always get what we want, and he’ll get over it.
I’m about to spread the plastic sheet—again—when my phone buzzes. It’s the IT guy calling me back, so I immediately pick up, pacing around Brown’s cooling remains while we talk details. My contact wants more money if I want him to work at night, which is new, but we eventually settle on a price, and I end up finishing the call, mildly annoyed that Rowan isn’t yet back. Then again, what if the reality of what he’s done only hit him now, and he’s struggling with guilt, all alone?
My feet move, carrying me to the food court, and his name is on my lips as I jog into the men’s restroom, but the stalls are eerily silent.
I open each one for good measure, and I’m pretty sure there’s a blood mark on one of the doors, so I grab some toilet paper to wipe it off. Rowan still has a lot to learn—
I freeze, certain I heard something outside.
Maybe I just missed him, and instead of coming right back to me, he went to one of the food stands to pick up snacks. After all, we do have a long night ahead of us.
But as I walk out, wary of my surroundings, a darker thought settles in my gut.
What if he… ran away?
Tonight is the first time we’ve been out of the cabin after getting snowed in, and the first time he’s been able to roam freely since I abducted him. I paid much closer attention to his movements when we were tracking Galanis. Did I get too confident about him?
What if he was biding his time, happy to get whatever revenge he could, but not wanting to stick around a professional killer?
Unless, of course, I’m going crazy, and he’s just sulking because I was pushy about Otto Grass.
I grab my phone, because in my frantic search, I’ve forgotten it’s in silent mode, so I wouldn’t hear a text from Rowan even if he sent one to let me know that he needs a bit more time. I did get a message from my IT guy, which makes me roll my eyes, but I suppose I might as well make the call to Otto now and be done with it.