Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Who the actual fuck has enough balls to target me in my own home? Especially while my mother is upstairs trying to sleep. I crouch behind one of my cars in the dark, then purposely override my security system to unlock the door. Why make it difficult for them when this is exactly where I want them to walk into?
A small noise grabs my attention, and with laser focus, I narrow my gaze on three people wearing all black. Three? Is that all that was sent? What a fucking insult.
They have guns raised as they walk in, black masks covering their faces. They look for the door into the house and head in that direction. Before they even make it to the door, I shoot two in the back of the head. The final one I shoot in the back of the knee and then the hand holding the gun.
He screams, the only noise heard among the ordeal as I come up behind him and press my hand to his mouth to muffle his screams.
“I’m giving you one fucking chance to answer me or I will murder everyone you love and force you to watch. Who sent you?” I say calmly, a wild storm beneath as adrenaline courses through me from the kills.
The intruder is slick with blood as I hear barking. Fuck. My mother’s most likely heard the noises. I glance between the intruder and the door. If she comes in here, she’s in for a startling reality check.
“Rick Cansis,” the person squeaks.
The sex trafficker? I angle him away, put the gun to his head, and blow out his brains.
I run to the door, closing the garage door behind me, and remain in the dark as my mother calls out from the staircase.
“River, is everything okay? I heard screaming,” she says. My dogs are barking as they run to me. They growl at the door, and I signal for them to return to her.
“Everything is fine. I just stubbed my toe on the coffee table again,” I call out to her.
Headlights streak across the front windows. “Michael’s coming over for a drink. We’ll be quiet. Go back to sleep, Mother,” I say. “You might want to shut your door. You know how clumsy he can get after a few too many drinks. Don’t want him stumbling into your bed again, do you?”
“Dear God,” she mumbles as her door slams.
Michael comes into the garage as I switch on the light. Another two men are behind him, guns raised as they walk in.
“What the fuck happened?” Michael asks.
I raise my finger to my lips. “My mother is upstairs, and I would like for her not to discover the three bodies here. Arrange a cleanup immediately.”
“Who the fuck put a hit on you?” Michael asks, snapping his fingers for the other two to start busily making this place appear brand fucking new again.
They begin to drag out the bodies as I say, “Find me Rick Cansis’s address.”
Michael’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want to go after the sex trafficking kingpin?”
I offer a crazed half smile, my blood pumping with the thrill. “He came after me first. Besides, I don’t like how he parted his hair anyway. Oh, and he also made a pass at my woman.”
CHAPTER 45
Anya
I’m fucking furious. Not only did River stand me up last night with undelivered promises, but now he’s summoned me to his restaurant. No, not summoned. He demanded it when he called, assuring me he has something I need to see immediately.
I rejected the thought of coming here because I’m not at his beck and call, yet somehow, I still had Vance drive me here. I never thought I would want to be in a relationship, and even now, I don’t think I want to put labels on anything. But if you were to ask me how I’d feel if he slept with someone else…
I would say murderous.
And that’s putting it politely.
I don’t know if it’s monogamy that I’m after, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be pissed about him leaving me high and dry last night.
His restaurant isn’t open for once, but Michael stands at the door, waiting for me. He has dark circles under his eyes. “Rough night?” I ask, not really caring about the answer. I know Michael doesn’t like me, and the feeling’s entirely mutual.
“Like you wouldn’t believe. He’s waiting for you inside,” he says. The restaurant is still lit up but seems oddly spacious without the tables being fully booked out as they usually are. Clay walks in behind me while Vance waits at the car.
When I ascend the stairs, I see River sitting at the end of the table, broody and handsome.
“You better give me the name of the woman you were fucking last night because I’d like to pay her a visit,” I say. He doesn’t smile as his knuckles go white.