Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 66503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
She swallows. “But where do we go now?”
I take in a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
Her eyes suddenly flicker as though a light bulb went on in her brain. “I know one more secret hideout my father never told anyone about. It wasn’t even in his documents.”
My eyes narrow. Anything that involves her father feels like a bad idea. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
“Lex can’t know about it,” she replies. “My father would never tell anyone about his precious vacation home. There’s nothing of value to steal.”
She reaches in the overhead bin and fishes out the phone I stuffed in there. She opens it up and checks some app for locations. “Here.” She points at an area on the map not too far from where we’re at. “It’s a small house near the beach.”
“Are you sure?” I ask. I don’t trust any of this, but when she nods and smiles at me with a cutesy face, I can’t help myself. “Okay.” I put the car in reverse. “You trusted me. So now I’ll trust you.”
When we finally arrive at the place she marked, I’m too flabbergasted to even properly check my surroundings, in case anyone followed us. Because in front of us is a very tiny house near the sea. And it’s beautiful. Idyllic, even.
Unlike anything I’d ever associate with her father.
“My mother bought this when they were younger,” Aurora says, and she shuts the car door.
Well, that explains it.
“You like it?” she muses as we walk toward the house.
“Sure,” I reply.
She frowns. “You’re not the least bit excited, are you?”
I don’t know what she wants from me, so I opt not to say anything at all as we make our way to the front door.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” she says.
My nostrils flare. “Talking only got me into more pain.”
She makes a face. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “It’s not your fault.”
“I’m just glad we’re out of there,” she says. “And hopefully in one piece.” She giggles in an awkward manner, almost like she doesn’t know how to act around me now that we’re not inside that cage anymore.
She jumps up to a ledge above the door and fishes a key from there. “Yes! It’s still here!”
Doesn’t seem that safe to me to keep keys there. Then again, this is just the kind of thing I’d expect from the likes of Blom.
“My mother’s idea,” Aurora muses. “In case I’d ever need a safe space.”
“Hmm … She could see into the future?” I say as Aurora opens the door.
“No, but she definitely knew what my father’s job was. And from what I got told by our staff … she wanted to protect me from it, even before I was born.” The last bit of her sentence comes out in a sigh as though she’s still mourning her mother’s loss.
I used to be like that too before the streets hardened me. Before I was snatched and shown that emotions only get you killed.
The door closes behind me, and I look around. Aurora checks out some of the furniture like she’s physically touching up on memories.
Right next to me is a door that leads into what appears to be the only bathroom. The kitchen and living room are open to each other, and in the back is an open door with a smaller room with a queen-sized bed.
“It’s not amazing, but …”
“It’s perfect.”
CHAPTER 12
Aurora
I turn to look at him. “You think so?”
He nods. “It’s more than I ever had.”
I begin to blush, and I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear to try to hide it, but obviously, it fails because his eyes are definitely flicking back and forth across my face. “Oh, I never thought about it like that. I’m sorry, it was inconsiderate of me. I—”
He plants a finger on my lips, silencing me. “Stop apologizing. You’ve done more than enough of that.”
I blush and avert my eyes, but then I notice the bleeding wound on his stomach. Shit, I completely forgot about that.
“Right, we have to find some supplies.” I run to the bathroom and search the cabinets until I find a box.
“What supplies?” he asks from the living room.
I return with the box and open it up, pulling out some alcohol, a cotton pad, some sterile gauze, and tape. I place it on the kitchen counter and sit down on one of the stools, then pat my hand on the other. “Sit.”
He ogles me for a moment like he’s questioning my intentions.
“C’mon, let me help you,” I say.
He sighs and then begins to walk toward me, each step like a stomp on the floor. And the sound still manages to make me gulp.
He’s just so … huge.
Even when he sits on the stool in front of me, his muscles still look like they’re about to bulge out of those flimsy linen pants.