Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61286 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Blood spurted over her hand and chest, and he made a guttural, pained sound, as he tried to reach for and remove the knife, his face contorted in agony and rage. She only had a short window of time to escape and ran for the door, unbolted the locks, and ran smack into a wall of muscle.
She was so disoriented she screamed, but strong arms wrapped around her and she instinctively fought, trying to get free.
“Skye, it’s me, and you’re okay,” Tripp’s warm, familiar voice said, holding her tight as she trembled in his arms. “You’re okay, baby.”
Knowing she was finally safe, Skye broke down and sobbed.
* * *
The sound of Skye screaming Jack’s name, then the line going dead, made Tripp’s blood run cold and terror grip his heart. He’d just left the office, intending to head toward the address Zach had given him that matched the information on the black sedan’s registration to confront Doug Hammond.
Now he was breaking all speed limits to get there as fast as he could because that was the most logical place where Jack would take Skye. No doubt her ex believed no one would make the connection between Doug Hammond and Jack Tremont. And Tripp wouldn’t have, if Jack hadn’t cut him off the previous Friday, giving him time to snap a picture of the car’s license plate.
The man’s arrogance was his own undoing, but it also gave Tripp the ability to save Skye. He refused to think of any other alternative. As he raced toward the address, his stomach in fucking knots and trying not to imagine the worst, he called 911 and reported a kidnapping, and gave them the address where he believed Skye had been taken. At least he hoped and prayed that’s where she’d be.
He arrived at the house in a nice residential area in record time. Before his car had even come to a complete stop he shoved it into park and leapt from the vehicle, leaving it running as he bolted toward the front door, which was locked. As much as he wanted to pummel his fist on the door, he didn’t knock, not wanting to alert Jack that anyone was there to rescue Skye. Assuming they were inside.
Instead, Tripp looked through the clear glass side window next to the door and peered inside. The living room appeared normal. Beyond that was the kitchen and that’s where he saw movement. A man fell to the floor, then Skye, racing toward the front door, sheer terror on her face.
Just as he was about to smash in the side window, he heard the locks on the other side unlatching, then the door flew open, and Skye slammed into him in her quest to escape the monster she’d somehow managed to take down.
She screamed, a shrill sound escaping from her throat, and he immediately wrapped his arms around her, hoping to calm her. She struggled against his hold, her fear and confusion palpable as she tried to fight him off.
“Skye, it’s me and you’re okay,” Tripp assured her, feeling her trembling in his arms. “You’re okay, baby.”
Hearing his voice, she finally realized who held her, that she was finally safe, and her body went limp and huge sobs wracked her body.
As much as he wanted to keep holding her close, he had no idea what had happened with Jack. Tripp could still see him on the kitchen floor, but he’d propped himself up against a cabinet—seemingly immobile, but still a threat, until Tripp knew otherwise. And until the cops arrived, he intended to make sure the son of a bitch didn’t find a way to escape.
He gently released Skye, pulling her away from him, seeing the tears streaking her face and the fright still lingering in her eyes. There were splotches of blood on her cheek, arm, and dress, and his gut clenched tight. Tripp was fucking furious at the man who’d dared to kidnap his woman.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked Skye, needing to make certain she was physically okay, because if Jack had harmed her in any way, he was going to pay a very steep price.
She shook her head. “He didn’t get the chance.” Then, she buried her face in her hands. “Oh, my God, I stabbed him with a knife and I think I killed him!”
Tripp fucking wished that were true. She might have incapacitated the man, but unfortunately, he was still alive from what he could see.
“Everything is going to be okay,” Tripp promised, trying to keep his composure for her sake. “But I need you to go and wait for me in the car. Lock yourself inside until the police get here.”
Her hands clutched his arms, her frantic eyes on his face. “What about you?”
His jaw clenched tight. “I have some unfinished business to attend to.”