Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 20775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 104(@200wpm)___ 83(@250wpm)___ 69(@300wpm)
We were watching for a fan with a vendetta. Someone who would write nasty letters to a famous person they didn’t even know. Probably male. Probably middle aged.
None of us were looking for the security guard Hollis had gotten fired. We hadn’t even known he’d been fired. The last Hollis had heard, the company was looking into things, not that they’d let the man go.
I felt the bullet before I heard the shot, but it was close, so I knew he was close. Staggering, I searched the garage for the shooter. Another shot rang out and Forrest barked out a cry of pain as he used his body to shield Layla, shoving her toward the venue doors.
“Got him,” Eli snapped. Three shots were fired in rapid succession as Lu gripped the back of my jacket and hurried me toward the doors.
“I’m good.” I pushed her away. “Go with Eli.”
The second I was inside the doors, a couple of men I didn’t recognize helped me onto the floor. I wasn’t real happy about it, considering the motherfucking doors were glass—but I wasn’t in a position to argue with them either since my eye sight was fading in and out.
“Forrest,” I rasped, looking for my best friend.
“I’m here, chief,” he called back.
“You’re hit?”
“Just a graze. I’ll be fine. You?”
I looked down at the front of my white shirt. Cec was going to be pissed because the entire thing was covered in blood. “Not sure.” I coughed as I lifted my hand to search for the wound. My entire torso felt like there was a thousand pound weight sitting on top of it. I couldn’t pinpoint where I’d been shot.
“Chest,” one of the guys next to me called out to Forrest.
“Fuck,” I muttered, closing my eyes as I let my hand fall.
Cecilia was going to kill me.
Chapter 3
Cecilia
“You need help with that?” my mom asked cheerfully as I put the rails of my carrier between my teeth.
“Hmmhmm,” I replied, turning a little so she wouldn’t try to help anyway. It only took a few minutes to get Forrest strapped to my back, but the minute my mom tried to help it would take twice as long.
“I had a couple carriers when you kids were little, but none of them looked like that.” She looked it over admiringly.
“It’s called a wrap.”
“How do you keep him from falling off before you’ve got it all”—she waved her hands around—“wrapped? Gotta tell you, I was shitting myself there for a minute.”
I laughed. “Practice.”
“Okay, my little stinkers,” my mom said, grabbing the kids from the back seat. “Let’s go create some chaos!”
“Hopefully enough that you fall asleep early,” I said under my breath, grinning at Olive as she showed my mom how she could jump off the curb. Not to be outdone, Meg hopped off the curb and twisted her body in the air, landing on her knees.
“I’m okay!” she said hurriedly, getting to her feet with a dramatic flourish.
“You two are pretty much gymnasts,” my mom said seriously while she grabbed their hands. They skipped next to her as we made our way toward the little park. “Now, what are you going to do first?”
“Slide,” Meg yelled.
“No, swings,” Olive yelled louder.
“Well, lucky for you two, we’ve got enough time for both. What about the monkey bars?”
There were only a couple of other kids playing, but I could feel Forrest’s head drooping already so I stopped at the edge of the bark chips and swayed from side to side. He was fighting a valiant battle with sleep, his head popping back up every few seconds, but I knew it wouldn’t be too long before he was drooling down the back of my shirt. While I waited for him to give up and rest, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the photos Mark had sent me at five o’clock that morning. He was always more attractive than anyone should be, but in that suit? Jesus. I’d expected a silly picture with his tongue hanging out or something, but the man had obviously understood the assignment. In the first photo, he was wearing the suit, but he hadn’t buttoned the shirt yet and it was hanging open, giving just a glimpse of tan skin from his throat to his happy trail. He was all buttoned up in the second photo, a tie neatly tied around his neck, but it didn’t detract from the hotness a single bit. Yum.
I contemplated sending him a text back all day, but I didn’t want to distract him. My phone number and my dad’s phone number were the only personal calls that would go through when he was working and I didn’t want him to worry that there was an emergency. When I realized that Forrest was finally asleep, I put the phone away and headed toward the monkey bars. I was definitely going to pull those photos out again later.