Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Important message from Kylie. She needs you to call her right away.”
Thank fate. An excuse to retreat before I blow Operation Avoid Adele. I give Adele a curt nod and carry my plate into my office where I sit down and call Kylie, a cat shifter from Tucson who is probably the world’s best hacker. We subcontract work to her on a regular basis because her mate is a wolf, and we trust them both.
“What’s up, Kylie?”
“I’ve been monitoring the dark web for the situation with Charlie and Adele, and something popped up.”
A steel band squeezes around my chest. Last month, Charlie, my brother’s mate, was kidnapped when some drug dealers mistook her for Adele after Adele’s business partner, Bing, got himself into trouble dealing drugs and then got himself dead.
“What is it?” I choke.
“The drug cartel thinks Adele has Bing’s drugs. They put out a capture order.”
Adrenaline hits so fast, I almost shift. I flush with heat, and my vision changes for a moment. I don’t know if or how I ended the call to Kylie, all I know is my need to protect my mate sends me barreling out of my office to find her.
“I need a plane out of Taos by 1800 hours,” I bark at Lance.
“Who will be on it?” he clips back, pulling out his cell phone.
“Me and Adele.”
His posture relaxes like he thinks I’m taking her on a honeymoon, which makes me want to pick him up by the throat and shake him. “She’s being hunted by the cartel,” I snarl.
He snaps back into urgency, putting the phone to his ear, presumably calling Teddy, the bear shifter who we use as our pilot.
Adele stands frozen in front of the stove, her green eyes wide. “What did you say?”
“They think you have Bing’s drugs. I’m moving you out.” I take hold of her elbow. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Wait, I can’t just–”
“I’ll clean up, Adele,” Sadie offers quickly.
“Yes, we’ll get it.” Charlie agrees, rubbing her baby bump. “You go. Let Rafe handle it.”
Adele
The assumption that Rafe should swoop in and save me rankles. I guess it’s a result of the same pride that keeps me from accepting help from friends. I want to be able to handle problems on my own.
On the other hand, I’m certainly no match for a drug cartel if they’re hunting me.
I take my coat from Rafe and follow him out to his Humvee. “Where are we going?”
“Out of state.” He throws open the passenger door for me and practically lifts me inside. Jeez, the guy is strong. Like, crazy strong. I don’t know how that was even possible. “Somewhere we can lie low until I can take care of the cartel.” He buckles my seat belt and slams the door shut.
“How are you going to take care of the cartel?” I ask when he climbs in the passenger side.
When he looks at me, his eyes flash with green light, and for a moment, he reminds me of a ferocious animal. I’m reminded of the fact that this man probably kills for a living.
A shiver runs up my spine. I definitely wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of Rafe and his team. My initial irritation with Rafe’s high-handedness slips away, replaced by gratitude at his willingness to protect me.
“Thank you,” I say quietly, folding my trembling fingers together to quiet them.
Rafe has already peeled out, and we’re driving swiftly down the mountain. He looks over at me, his brows down, his gaze troubled. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Adele,” he swears, and I believe him.
For the first time in ages, it occurs to me that I don’t have to do everything by myself. I can let people help out when they offer. But then again, it was letting Bing help me open The Chocolatier that now has my life in danger. And I don’t know what Rafe will want in return.
Actually, that thought doesn’t ring true.
Rafe isn’t the kind of guy who asks for things in return. He’s not transactional. He functions from a sense of honor and duty. He would protect anyone in his sphere. Of that, I’m certain.
I reach out and touch his forearm, which is corded up like he’s in a wrestling match with the steering wheel. “I’m glad you’re in my corner.”
“Always,” he swears, like it’s a given. Even though we’re not a couple. Even though he hasn’t known me all that long, and most of our interactions have been combative. He gives me that blazing gaze again. “I will never let anyone hurt you,” he says fiercely.
I’m reminded of how he opened up the night we had sex, and I feel the need to remind him, “It wouldn’t be your fault if someone did.”
I meant the words to be comforting, but if anything, they seem to further enrage him. His lips draw back from his teeth like he’s ready to kill anyone who hurt me. “Rafe.” I stroke up and down his arm. “I just don’t want to be your responsibility.”