Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112762 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 564(@200wpm)___ 451(@250wpm)___ 376(@300wpm)
Concern glinted brightly in my friend’s eyes while I stared at her large bump, worrying about anything stressing her out.
Much less my bad luck.
“I’m just glad you’re all right.” Monroe stared down at me, wringing her hands.
As soon as I’d walked into the living room, fresh from the shower, she’d hugged me hard and burst into tears. I knew it was hormones for her, but when I cried, it was from shock and frustration.
I didn’t want the anger to win. But someone had tried to mug me. “Do I have a target on my back?” I asked my friends. “Does it say ‘easy pickings’ on it?”
Brodan’s brows pinched. “You are having a stream of bad luck lately.”
“Lately?” I scoffed. “Try for the last twenty-six, almost twenty-seven, years. It started when I was born on Christmas Day. That’s just bad luck.” Seeing the worried look they exchanged, I sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself right now.”
“No bloody wonder.” Roe paced up and down. “I mean, two attacks in one month is …” She trailed off, turning pale as she stopped and looked at me. “What if that wasn’t a mugging? Tell us exactly what happened.”
“Not a mugging?” I frowned. “What could it have been?”
“Tell us exactly what happened. Every moment.”
So I did.
“He never tried to take your purse?” Brodan quizzed.
“I didn’t give him the chance.”
“But why not grab the purse and run?” Roe insisted. “You’d dropped everything. He came at you again instead of stealing your purse.”
Fear shivered through me as I understood what she was saying. “You think it was planned?”
“What if it was Hoffman?”
I shook my head. “He was too tall.”
“Or someone Hoffman hired.” Monroe shot a worried look at Brodan. “Do you think he might try to scare Sloane?”
Brodan squeezed his eyes closed as he rubbed his forehead. “It’s always a possibility. Fuck … why are the women in this family such danger magnets? If I die young, it will be from the stress of it.”
Instead of his words eliciting fear, I felt warmth spread through me. Brodan considered me family?
“We could be jumping to conclusions here,” I reminded them quietly. “There’s a real possibility this is merely horrible luck.”
“I don’t know.” Brodan shook his head, unconvinced. “He wore gloves and a ski mask. A ski mask, maybe … but gloves? To mug you?”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out.” What if it was Hoffman? Payback for getting him kicked out of Ardnoch? “Callie.” My gaze met Roe’s. “I can’t have Callie in danger.” Not again.
“Protection,” Roe announced. “A bodyguard for you and Callie.”
“I can’t afford that.” I stood, shaking my head at the suggestion. “And doesn’t it seem a little overboard?”
“Maybe. But isn’t it worth it to know Callie is safe?”
“Of course! But I can’t afford that, Roe, and I am not taking any more handouts from you.” My pride could only handle so many hits.
“Handouts?” She looked hurt.
“That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry … I’ll just be extra vigilant. And something is less likely to happen here than in the city.”
“I really think—arghh!” Monroe suddenly cried out, bending over slightly and clutching her belly.
Fear lanced through me as both Brodan and I reached for her.
She panted, wide-eyed, as she stared at Brodan.
“Roe?” He held her close, looking terrified.
Her gaze dropped to where a wet stain darkened the fabric of her wide-leg pants. She looked back up at him. “I think my water just broke.”
Ten
WALKER
As soon as the ringing started, I was awake. My time in the military had trained me to be a light sleeper, to jump into consciousness at the drop of a pin.
Light filtered into the room through the cracks in my window blind, and I turned in my bed to grab my ringing phone off the nightstand. Brodan’s name flashed on the screen. I noted it was five minutes to six, and my alarm was about to go off. I didn’t work Saturdays, but I didn’t like sleeping in for too long, and Brodan knew that.
“Morning,” I answered, shoving my duvet off and sliding out of bed.
“Aye, and it’s a good one,” Bro answered.
I froze at the emotion in his voice. “Oh?”
“I’m officially a dad, Walk. My son was born this morning. We’ve called him Lennox.”
I was sincerely happy for him as I wandered into my kitchen. “I’m chuffed for you, Bro. Congrats, man.” But something occurred to me. “Isn’t Lennox a bit early?”
“By a week. The doctors think stress caused Roe’s water to break, but they’ve assured me both Monroe and Lennox are doing well.”
“What stress? Physical stress?”
“Ah … no. Not exactly. It was Sloane.”
My hand stilled on the coffee pot. “What about Sloane?”
“She was in Inverness last night, walking back to her car, and she was attacked by what she thought was a mugger. But he didn’t go for her purse, Walk, so I’m worried this is a retaliation from Hoffman.”