Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
I bite my lip and snuggle in some more.
He’s just too perfect.
And when he was mostly unconscious at the hospital, he said, “Violet, I love you.”
It’s too soon for that. And he had a head injury so I can’t take much from it – or I shouldn’t. But, I have. I’ve taken a lot from it. His first thought when he woke in the hospital was me. He wanted to know I’m okay. He wanted his brother to look after me.
It’s definitely too soon for the L-word. But I can’t help but be excited about the idea of him saying it again.
I feel like I’m about to burst into tears. I’ve been holding it together as best as I can since last night, but it was terrifying, seeing him get swarmed, hearing the sound of the shovel hitting him, watching him fall to the ground. Getting yanked back by an unknown man.
“Throw her in the back!”
Sound of gun cocking… (I think)
“Not him…”
I hear it now in my mind and it dawns. They were going to take me. It didn’t even fully occur to me until now, things happened so fast.
Thank God for Killian’s driver or maybe he would’ve been left on the road for dead. Or even shot. And I could’ve been taken. Where? Why?
Was it a case of mistaken identity where we were mistaken for Tommy and Tia Ferrano? Was that really a gun I heard being cocked?
I’m shaking and that wakes Killian. “What’s wrong?” he asks.
I’m startled that he was so tuned in to the shift in me.
“I think it was a case of mistaken identity,” I say. “They were going to throw me in the back of the car. I heard one of them say that, and I heard the cock of a gun and then someone said ‘not him’ before your driver fired a gun and scared them off.”
He sits up sharply. “Anything else?”
I shake my head. “It just sort of came back to me now that I’ve relaxed I guess. It all happened so fast.”
“Nothing else? You sure?”
I comb through my memory.
My phone making noise pulls me from my daze.
“That’s all I remember,” I say.
“Okay.” He kisses me and pulls me tight to him for a minute before he rises, taking me with him.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Calling Tommy Ferrano. Dario’s gone on his honeymoon. Gimme some privacy for a minute, baby?”
I grab my phone, seeing I missed a text from my mother, asking how he’s doing. I’d called her from the hospital this morning to give her the basics of what happened. I head out of his room to the living area and sit down to reply to her, tell her he’s home and he’s okay.
It feels like that wasn’t a random attack last night, but the news that it might have to do with organized crime, that’s not exactly settling. Killian’s words about not being involved, though? I’m not sure how to feel. I do trust him; he’s given me no reason not to. It’s good he’s calling his friends to warn them, just in case whoever that was decides to try again. But I’m also wondering how smart it is of me to let myself be on a ‘need to know’ basis.
***
Monday
We’re pulling up to an old sprawling waterfront home.
I’m driving Killian’s SUV and I’ve packed enough clothes for us for a few days along with both our laptops. Killian told me Patricia placed an order with a local grocer who would deliver between five and five thirty. On our way, I’ve stopped at work and grabbed my laptop as well as stopped at my apartment to check my mail.
We arrive at five twenty and I see a teenaged boy is unloading grocery bags from a pickup truck.
I take in the sights and I’m in awe of it. The house is a sprawling one and a half story white board and batten home with a massive wraparound porch. I can see it’s sprawling as it’s been added onto, though just on the main level. The original home is a typical farmhouse. There’s an upper floor balcony overlooking the water. Behind it, there’s a big modern garage and an older barn. And lots of property.
“Hey. You Mister Coulter?” The teenager calls out. “You want this stuff brought inside?”
“That’d be great, thanks,” I answer instead. “He’s just out of the hospital and I don’t want him carrying anything.”
Killian steps out of the passenger seat of the SUV. “First, she drives my ride and now she’s tryin’ to stop me from carryin’ shit. You got my balls in your purse, too, Violet? I might want ‘em back later.”
He smiles. He’s teasing me.
The teenager laughs and Killian passes him a key to open the front door.
“I just disarmed the alarm. Straight down the hall and to your right. Just pile it all on the counters, man.”