Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Stepping off the elevator, I type out a message to her, begging her to meet me after work.
“Is this her?” a man snaps.
My head jerks up from its attention on my phone to find one of the same guys from earlier in the week glaring at me.
My boss is standing behind his desk, his face drained of color. He looks absolutely terrified, his throat working on a swallow and his eyes darting all over the room.
“She has nothing to do with this,” my boss finally manages.
“The hell she doesn’t. We don’t have Feds breathing down our necks because this operation is working smoothly,” the guy snaps, never taking his eyes off me.
“I’m s-so- Who are you?”
“Like you don’t know,” the guy hisses as he advances on me. “Get your ass in here.”
I lift my arms to defend myself, but the guy smiles at the defensive stance. He shakes his head, and I know I look ridiculous. The guy is easily twice my size and I scream out in pain when he clamps a meaty fist around my upper arm before dragging me into Mr. Harrison’s office.
“She’s the accountant, right?” the guy growls, making my boss nod his head.
“But she doesn’t know anything. I did what you asked. I cover those accounts myself. I’ve been—”
“I’m tired of hearing it, Harrison. You know Mr. Pierce doesn’t like delays.”
The guy releases me with a shove so hard I nearly fall to the floor. My hip hits the edge of the desk, making me cry out in pain. Hot tears burn the backs of my eyes threatening to fall, but I somehow manage to hold them back.
My phone chirps a text just as it hits the carpet under one of the office chairs, and the angry man’s eyes snap to mine.
“Did you call the police?”
“What? No.” I’m terrified, but even I know the damn police don’t text. “I texted a friend.”
My hands are shaking uncontrollably, and my jaw is trembling with fear.
“Is she calling the police?”
“I didn’t text her about what was going on. I was texting her before you grabbed me.”
I only thought I was scared before, then he pulls out a gun.
“That’s not necessary,” Mr. Harrison snaps, drawing the attention of the gun-wielding psycho. “She has nothing to do with this. Just let her go.”
The guy scoffs, an evil sound that rumbles from his chest, and with the noise, I know I’m not going to make it out of here alive. I have no clue what is going on, but that won’t stop this man from killing both of us.
“Ch-check it,” I urge. “I wasn’t texting the police. I didn’t say anything about what’s going on here. I-I don’t even know what’s going on.”
“You’re digging into things that don’t concern you,” he snaps, his calm menacing demeanor beginning to turn into rage. Unreasonable men are dangerous, and if this man set out to kill my boss today, I doubt he’ll have any trouble upping that body count to two.
I watched crime shows religiously before my house got broken into. I know that my likelihood of getting out of this with only the bruise I can feel forming on my arm is slim. I’ve seen his face. He’s hinted that I know too much already. He’s said his boss’s name.
“P-Please,” I beg. “I don’t know anything.”
“You know enough,” he hisses.
The overhead lights glint off the shiny, silver weapon, making my legs grow weak, threatening to drag me to the floor.
My phone rings under the chair, and instead of getting angrier, the man shoves the chair out of the way until it crashes against the wall. Then his boot comes down, smashing the screen.
I instantly regret sneaking out of Quinten’s condo this morning. I’d take a million awkward near-kisses if it meant I didn’t have to be here right now.
Chapter 25
Quinten
Waking up hard this morning wasn’t surprising, considering how badly I wanted to go into Hayden’s room last night and apologize for being a weirdo. Not with how far I let my mind wander last night before rolling over and punching my pillow with regret.
I should’ve kissed her. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to press my lips to hers and never come back up for air.
But I didn’t want her to feel obligated to kiss me back, and I was afraid that’s what would’ve happened. I insisted she come stay with me until we figure out who and why someone was watching her, and although she didn’t put up too much of a fight, I know she isn’t exactly comfortable with the entire situation. She’s a woman who has been, until recently, living alone and not having to share her space with anyone.
I didn’t want her to feel as if I only had her there for my own selfish gains. I also didn’t want her to feel obligated to kiss me back because of the situation we found ourselves in.