Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Knowing this is about as good as it’s going to get, I grab my key off the counter and make my way out the door before quickly locking up, then because I no longer own a handbag, I shove the key into my bra and get going.
It’s barely dusk with the sun only just beginning to duck down beyond the horizon, leaving enough daylight to make the walk to the bar not so daunting, though who knows how I’m going to cope tonight.
With every step I take, it’s almost impossible to ignore the black SUV that creeps along the road, and every time I pause and glance back, the driver eases onto the brake and waits for me to continue.
I roll my eyes. There’s no doubt these are Killian’s men tasked with watching over me and making sure I’m okay, and despite how much I want to scream at them to leave me alone, it’s not their fault. They’re simply following orders that they’re not permitted to refuse. I suppose I should be looking at it as a sweet gesture and not an insult that suggests I’m incapable of looking after myself. Though to be fair, I did manage to get myself kidnapped off the side of the street and thrown headfirst into a human trafficking ring, so it’s not as though I have a great track record.
Arriving at the bar, I pause on the sidewalk before looking back at the SUV and warring with myself on whether to be a decent human being or not. Letting out a sigh, I turn back and make my way toward the SUV. Seeing me coming, the driver puts the window down.
“Miss Chiara, how lovely to see you again,” Killian’s hired help says, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realize you’d be here tonight.”
“Quit the bullshit and stop acting like I haven’t been throwing old meatballs at you from my bedroom window for the past three days,” I tell him. “But I’m planning on being here for a while. I’m getting my job back, so you might as well park the car and come in for dinner. If everything goes well with my boss, then I’ll probably be here until one, maybe two in the morning.”
The driver looks to the other guard, his brows arched in question. “That’s a really long fucking time to go without dinner. You know how cranky I get when I don’t eat.”
The other guard lets out a heavy sigh and rolls his eyes. “Fine. But you’re paying.”
“YES!”
Feeling as though I’ve done my civic duty, I go to turn away before thinking better of it and looking back at the passenger who seems to be the one in charge of the two. “Out of curiosity,” I say. “How long is this whole stalking me thing supposed to last?”
He offers me a tight smile as pity flashes in his eyes. “Indefinitely, ma’am. Killian has no plans to cease your security, so as far as I am concerned, you can consider us your personal security team. Travis and I will be working the night shift, and then Calvin and Harry will be with you during the day.”
“Great,” I mutter under my breath. “Exactly what I need.”
The SUV pulls away, presumably to find somewhere to park, and I don’t waste a moment making my way into the bar, nearly running directly into my boss, and damn it, he looks pissed.
“Oh, hell no,” he says. “You can turn your ass right around and get out of here. Do you have any idea what kind of mess you left me with? Not even a call to tell me you won’t be coming in. What the fuck, Lara? It’s like you vanished out of thin air.”
“Well . . . I guess that’s exactly what happened,” I tell him. “I’ve had a really messed up few weeks that includes getting snatched off the side of the road while I was walking home from here, and I don’t mean to tell you that as some kind of sob story, I just want to be honest with you. But I’m home now and I’m ready to try and get back to normal life . . . If you’ll still have me, of course.”
His brows furrow as he steps closer to me, and I watch as his gaze focuses on the dark pink scar left on my lip, courtesy of Monica. “You’re serious?” he questions, deep concern flashing in his gaze as he continues searching my face, noticing my other new scars. “What the hell happened to you, Lara? Do you need me to contact someone for you? Family? The police?”
“No. No, no. Please don’t do anything like that,” I tell him. “I was put into a really shitty situation, and I met somebody who was able to help me out. He kept me safe, but as I said, I’m home now, and it’s over, and I’d really love it if you’d be able to look past the last few weeks of radio silence and remember that you actually really loved having me work at your bar.”