Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143382 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 717(@200wpm)___ 574(@250wpm)___ 478(@300wpm)
Until now.
Eric and I could have some time apart, then I could ask him over for dinner tomorrow and manage our consumption of the cake so neither of us passed out, and then we could have wild, sweaty, awesome, delayed-gratification sex.
We could have more cake after shared orgasms.
This was my thought when I heard Harlow cry out.
My heart stopped at the sound, I whirled, and just caught her being dragged away by a shadowy figure.
I started to take off after them, but then I saw nothing because a hood was thrown over my head, one of my hands was yanked behind my back, then the other, and I heard the zip ties zip on my wrists…
And in my ear, an ultra-deep, rough man’s voice said, “Be good, Angel.”
Oh…
Shit.
After the guy shoved me into a car, we took off, and I realized Harlow wasn’t with us (because I heard no whimpering, sobbing or my bestie calling out “Jess, are you there?”), I asked, “What did you do with my friend?”
And got the answer, “She’s fine. We only want you.”
Terrific.
That was when I decided to keep quiet, expend my energy in not freaking out and save as much of it as I could to handle whatever was about to befall me.
I had no idea what this was or who was behind it. It could be we missed some of the human traffickers the Angels and the Hottie Squad took down a few months ago, and the ones we missed were after payback. It could be the bad guys who were abducting people from the homeless camp somehow got a lock on me, and for some reason, targeted me.
I just knew it wasn’t a random assault because he’d called me Angel.
But why only me?
Whatever it was, I had to have my head together to handle it.
My crossbody was vibrating like crazy against my hip, probably Harlow frantically calling if they did let her go, but since my hands were zip-tied behind my back, and I could feel someone was sitting beside me in the car, I could do nothing about it.
The vibrating pretty much didn’t stop the entire short drive to wherever we went, so I had a feeling Harlow got in touch with somebody else, or somebodies plural, and now several of my loved ones were trying to get hold of me, probably scared out of their brains.
So, if the hood over my head and the zip ties biting into my wrists didn’t piss me off enough (and, mark my words, they seriously pissed me off), the people I loved being freaked on my behalf did.
The car stopped, I was pulled out by my arm, and I heard the car drive away as I was marched somewhere. I knew when we went inside, even if I didn’t hear a door open.
Though, I heard it close.
Shit.
I was shoved down in a chair that was surprisingly comfy and plush. It felt like an armchair.
“Lean forward,” the ultra-deep, rough voice ordered.
I wasn’t sure if I should do what he said, and in my hesitation, he curled his fingers around my shoulder and pressed me forward.
It wasn’t violent and it didn’t hurt. It was actually kind of gentle, which threw me.
Then I heard a snap, and my wrists were freed. One hand was seized, though, but only for me to hear another snap, and the tie was off. Ditto on my other wrist.
And then the hood was yanked away, my hair went flying, but the instant I oriented myself, I saw my brother sitting on the end of a coffee table right in front of me.
He looked good. Healthy. His hair was a bit longer, but he worked it. In fact, his shoulders were a bit wider too. And his forearms, that I could see since the long sleeves of his black thermal were pushed up, were all thick and wiry and veined.
And there was a tattoo I’d never seen on one of them.
Even so.
“The fuck?” I whispered.
“Could ask you the same thing, Angel,” Jeff clipped. He then kept talking. Irately. “Have you lost your mind? Tangling with sex traffickers?”
Was he…?
Was I…?
Did he just…?
I surged to my feet, shouting, “Are you freaking kidding me?”
He surged to his too and got in my face.
“Calm down and sit down, Jess,” he ordered.
“Oh no. That ship has sailed, baby bro.” I got in his face. “I’ve been looking for you for six months!”
“Brother. Time,” I heard murmured, and I jerked my attention to our audience.
Or, I should say, I jerked my attention up, up and then up to the only other person there.
He was tall, taller than Mace, and Mace was super tall (with Brady and Knox being the second tallest, both maybe an inch shorter than Mace, Roam being the third—yes, I could call out the order of their tallness, and their hotness, Eric was numero uno hottie (obvs), but he was in the Cap zone in tallness, in other words, around six one).