Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Her dark eyes flare with something…anger…maybe. It’s not fear. I know that much.
She leans in close, and I feel the barrel of a gun through her hoodie pocket. “Try it, asshole, but you’re going to have to get a lot of blood on you to keep me from taking a shot before you can get away.”
I reach out and grab her hand, shifting the muzzle toward the crowd. “I’m not here to kill you.”
“Oh, then what? I know they sent you, so you are here to what, bring me back, beat me up to scare me away?”
Her voice is low, and to anyone else, it might look like we are chatting, flirting even, so I lean into that, dipping my face so my mouth is near her neck. “I’m only here on surveillance at the moment, but the second it’s time to do my job, I’ll let you know first.”
She flexes her jaw, and I catch a whiff of her perfume, something obscenely expensive and frivolous. “Fine, now unhand me. I have to get off.”
I chuckle. “Well, I can’t help you with that either.”
She drags her eyes up to my face and then stops at the sunglasses. “You just made a comment about stabbing me, and now you are joking about giving me an orgasm? Wow. You must be some kind of psychopath.”
I lean in again. “The best kind of person, in my opinion.”
This earns me a curl of her lip, and she turns to face the door, her shoulder almost brushing my chest. “By the way, you aren’t fooling anyone into thinking you’re a student. Your shoes are too expensive and that watch screams money. Next time, try a department-store Timex if you want to blend in properly.”
The train jerks to a halt, and she steps off onto the platform. I let her go, then follow with the crowd and keep my distance. She doesn’t look back, even when she leaves the station and heads north on another crowded boulevard.
I stand near an alley and watch her walk up the steps to a brownstone, unlock the door, and go inside.
Then, I catch someone else peel themselves out of the shadows of her lower stairs and march up to the door. I’m already moving when I catch his profile in the light. What the hell is he doing here? It’s the councilman, the same man who helped us free Kai.
What could he possibly want with Selena?
2
SELENA
I lock the doors—the outer set which leads to the street, the inner set on the solid door leading into the foyer, and the living room. It’s a beautiful safe house, one I’ve cultivated over the years through my real estate contacts, but right now, it’s not making me feel very safe. Not after the almost altercation with the stranger on the subway. The hardest part is I didn’t recognize the man. At the very least, the ones who came for me in my own home, breaking in and attacking me, I recognized as fellow councilmember goons.
This man, who hid behind his hat and sunglasses, I have zero reference for, and I’m good at remembering faces.
I throw myself on the couch and unzip my boots, letting them fall to the floor before I flex my toes in the soft rug, stretching them, rolling my ankles, working out the tension in my calves. I hate wearing heels most of the time, but they are the only thing that gives me a bit of height. Even a few inches can go a long way in a world dominated by men. If they see me as smaller, fragile, they won’t listen, and it leads to little misunderstandings like we have now.
This is my second season opening. The first one had been uneventful, but the minute this one opened, things imploded. Someone tried to take my life, and now I’m on the run. How did so many things change in such a short amount of time?
If I were a less confident woman, I’d worry about my position as head councilwoman here.
But I don’t do pity parties, and I sure as shit don’t let some assholes take what’s mine without consequences.
For now, I’ll let them think they won, and when the time is right, I’ll strike back, decimate them so hard they won’t even think about coming for me and mine again.
Once I finish stretching my calves, I strip off the black hoodie, toss it on the chair, and enter the kitchen. I ate earlier, a quick bite while I surveilled the bastard who thinks to take my place. Now, all I need is a bubble bath and a very big glass of wine.
I grab a bottle of white from the wine cooler and a clean glass from the counter. Now set up, I open the bottle, pour about half into the oversized glass, and take one long draw of liquid. It’s a little bitter on the back notes, but refreshing, and most importantly, it’ll give me a little buzz and hopefully allow me to get some sleep. Something I don’t do well without pharmaceutical or alcoholic assistance.