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)
I peer through the front window as a van travels up the mansion's driveway. Out pour several guards, along with a man whose hands are tied behind his back and his mouth stuffed with a cloth.
They shove him inside and quickly shut the door, so I gaze through the other window and watch the scene in the living room unfold from the car. Lex doesn’t even bother shutting his blinds before the guards barge inside with none other than Aurora’s father.
I knew that fucker would get himself caught.
My muscles tighten. If I’d just taken care of him myself, he wouldn’t be there running his mouth.
Lex yells at his men. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but I know he’s pissed, judging from the protruding vessels on his face and his obscene gestures.
He grabs a tissue from his pocket and coughs inside. There’s more blood.
The man is deathly sick, and still, he chooses to destroy everything in his path.
Aurora’s father is pushed forward on his knees.
A gun is pulled.
My pulse quickens, and I stare without blinking.
Lex flicks his fingers at a guard who runs off to fetch some papers and a pen … then hands it to Blom, who begins to write something down.
My eyes widen when I spot him drawing some kind of map.
Fuck.
I knew it.
He’s leading Lex straight to us.
I push the gear into reverse and hit the gas, not waiting another second before I spin around and drive straight back to the beach house.
I have to warn her.
I have to get her out of there before they come.
Driving as fast as I possibly can, I skid through the streets, ignoring traffic lights as I make my way across the city, back to the only person I’ve ever cared about.
She’s not safe at that beach house anymore. Not now that her father’s talked.
We’ll have to find some other place to stay. Maybe one of my old hideouts from back when I was still roaming the streets.
Then again, it may be best to escape the city entirely.
Grumbling to myself, I race through the streets, my heart still far from calm as I finally arrive at the beach house. I park the car sideways and with screeching tires, not waiting a second before I jump out the door and storm inside.
“Aurora!” I roar.
“What?” she yells back from the bedroom.
The sound of her voice is soothing.
She’s still safe. Good.
“What’s wrong?” she asks as she steps out of the room. “What were you doing out there?”
“We have to pack now,” I say as I walk past her and head into the bedroom, throwing every bit of clothing we have into the big suitcase inside the closet.
She follows me around. “Why? What happened?”
“Your father’s been captured.”
Her eyes widen, a horrifying look settling on her face.
But the worst is yet to come.
“Lex?” she mumbles.
I nod. “And he’s going to tell him where we are.”
Her pupils dilate too, and her face goes as pale as snow. “No …”
“They’re coming.”
She keeps shaking her head. “No, Papa wouldn’t do that.”
“He already did,” I say, grabbing her arms. “I saw him draw up a map. He’s pinpointing our location.”
She sucks in a breath as though there’s no more oxygen in the air. “You saw? You went back there?”
I nod.
“But why?”
“Because I knew I couldn’t trust him,” I reply.
She frowns. “Are you sure?”
I clutch her arms. “I saw it with my own eyes.”
Her eyes tear up and fill with a kind of terror that haunts me. “Papa …”
“He is not your papa anymore,” I say with a stern voice. “He never was.”
“But he—”
“You have to let him go.”
“What?” she mutters.
“We have to escape. Now.”
She jerks herself free from my grip. “You want me to leave him there to die?”
“He doesn’t care about you,” I say. “He gave away our location.”
“What if he was forced?” She’s trying to find reasons that don’t exist.
He’s soiled her mind so badly that she can’t believe he would ever harm her.
So I grab her by the arms and make her look at me. “He betrayed you.”
Her eyes grow even more watery. “But I can’t just leave him there. They’ll torture and kill him.”
“You have to,” I reply.
“But what does that make me? If I leave him there, I’m just as terrible as he is,” she says, tears rolling down her cheeks. “We have to save him.”
I frown. “No.”
I pack the rest of the bags.
“We should at least try,” she says.
“I already saved his life once,” I bark back. “And it almost cost me my life.”
She merely stares at me with disdain as I finish packing.
“Your father chose his own fate when he left this house,” I add. “This is on him.”
She growls, “But he is still my family. And you don’t know if he was forced or not.”
I’ve never seen her this upset before.
I may not understand much about family or love, but I was right when I called it a weakness.