Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I breathe a little easier when he removes his hand from my back to drench a cotton swab with the disinfectant. My reprieve doesn’t last long. I shiver again when he presses the soaked swab on the scrapes. Like he promised, it burns, but it burns hotter when he leans closer—too close—and blows over my skin.
“Good,” he says, pulling the T-shirt down to cover me. “All done.”
Not wanting to give him my back for longer than necessary, I turn around on the seat. For how long is he planning on staying here? The whole night?
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
“I’m going to let you get some sleep,” he says with a disarming smile. He takes a phone from his jacket pocket and hands it to me. “Call me if you need anything. My number is programmed on there. If the police come around again, don’t speak to them. Insist on wanting your lawyer present. Call me, and I’ll take care of it.”
I look at the phone on my palm. It’s brand new. The protective film still covers the screen. “This isn’t mine.”
“It is now.” When I don’t reply, he adds, “To replace your old one.”
“You’re confiscating my phone?” I ask, my lips parting. “I have my caller list programmed on there.”
He pushes to his feet. “I already transferred your data to the new phone.”
Feeling at a disadvantage in my sitting position, I stand too. “When?”
He smiles. “Does it matter?”
Powerlessness has me gritting my teeth. “Why can’t you tell me? Is the information classified?”
Amusement sparks in his eyes. “While you were in the shower.”
The fact that he thinks this is funny only gets my hackles up. It makes me unreasonably obstinate. I know it, but I’m beyond controlling myself. “I want my own phone.”
“The number is the same. Your friends can still get hold of you on the old number.”
“I want my phone,” I repeat a little louder.
Wrapping his fingers around my nape, he reels me in. The movement is gentle but firm. He’s letting me know who’s in charge and who makes the decisions.
“You’re a very ungrateful girl,” he says in a low voice. “Under different circumstances, I would’ve pulled you over my lap and taught you manners.”
I gasp as his meaning registers.
“Who knows?” he taunts, the heat I saw earlier burning like blue flames in his eyes. “If Dr. Wade gives us the green light, I may try it.”
My cheeks burn as I imagine him asking that beautiful and sophisticated doctor if spanking is safe during pregnancy.
“You’re sick,” I say, breathless with indignation.
Like earlier, my insult has no effect on him. He only smiles wider and drags me so close that my nipples brush over the hard expanse of his chest.
“Good night, Anya.” He leans down and brushes a whisper over my ear. “Sweet dreams.”
I strain hard enough in his hold to stumble when he lets go. He catches me, testing my balance before taking my hand.
I try to pull free, but he tightens his grip as he removes something from the pocket of his pants and presses it onto my palm.
My key.
Without another word, he walks to the entrance and lets himself out. I’m about to run to the door and lock it when a key scrapes on the other side. Stunned, I hover there for a second, not sure I heard right. A couples of beats pass before I walk on leaden feet to the door and press on the handle.
It’s locked.
In the ninety minutes between visiting the doctor and having a shower, Saverio not only got me a new phone and dinner. He also had a key for my apartment made for himself.
CHAPTER
FOUR
Saverio
The thought of my knife on Anya’s pregnant stomach still makes me sick as I leave her apartment building. I could’ve easily killed her as well as the life she carries. A flick of my wrist is all it would’ve taken, no more effort than driving a blade through butter. If I hadn’t decided her life was mine already, the fact that a baby is growing inside her would’ve stopped me. I don’t pause to examine my reasons too closely. I barrel down the street, checking that the man I summoned to watch her is in place.
He stands on the opposite side of the road, sheltered in an alcove from where he has a view on her street-facing windows. The blue lights of police cars flash from a block farther down. The sirens are quiet now. The forensics team will already be crawling over the crime scene. They won’t find prints. They may however be lucky enough to pick up a hair or a flake of skin. Who knows?
The situation isn’t ideal. If Anya didn’t interrupt us, Giorgio and I would’ve dumped the body and burned the blood away with acid. But it is what it is. We’ll just have to deal with any problems that arise. That’s what I’m good at. Solving problems. Removing obstacles. In the most literal sense.