Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Brutal,” I whisper, my own body clenching at the scars that mimic mine. I bend, close my eyes, and kiss each scar that lines his back.
He lets me. My throat tightens.
“Don’t tell me where your scars came from. Not tonight, Violet.”
I still. Why doesn’t he want to know? A part of me’s relieved, because I’m not in the mood to relive any of those events.
“I won’t. I don’t want to talk about it myself yet. But can I ask you why?”
He rolls back over, reaches for me, then drags me to his chest again. His eyes are fire, giving me a glimpse of the inferno that rages inside him. Sometimes, he tames the fire. Sometimes, he hides it. But it’s never fully quenched.
“Because when I find out who gave you those scars, I will hunt them down. I will make them pay. I want to be fully prepared, and tonight’s not the night for that.”
I’d smile, but he isn’t joking.
I’m falling in love with the man they call The Executioner. I didn’t come here by accident.
“Alright, then,” I whisper.
I lay back down beside him and roll over. We both know it’s time for sleep, and the time to divulge secrets to one another is over.
For now.
He lays his heavy arm over my body, and I sigh. Nothing gives me comfort like the weight of his arm.
I want to ask him how we’re coming along on the next job we have to do—finding my parents’ murderer. I want to remind him that he promised me that he wouldn’t leave me hanging. But I’m tired, and so is he. Tomorrow, then.
I yawn widely, my eyes closing.
“Thank you for that,” I whisper, as slumber beckons.
“For what?”
“For trusting me with the truth.”
I need to ask him about my parents. Have we made headway with anything at all? I’m feeling frustrated and impatient, so ready to move on this. But not tonight.
I fall into a deep sleep.
I dream of hunting, and weapons, and throwing the new knives he bought me, but every time I throw them, I miss the target.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Cain
“Cain!”
I look up from my laptop, my eyes blurry from staring too long, and blink. Someone just called my name.
“Cain, come here!” It’s Skylar.
I jump up from my seat and stalk to my office door, my pulse accelerating. Why the hell is she yelling for me? I yank it open, ready to grab the weapon I keep on me at all times. I check the heft of it in my holster, just in case.
It’s been too calm around here for too damn long, and my head’s been so buried in research I’m still mentally in the dark and dirty trenches of my research.
“Cain!”
My boots hit hard on the top landing as I jog toward the top of the stairs.
“What?” My heart’s beating hard, and I don’t hear Violet. Where’s Violet?
I come around the corner at the top of the stairs, staring down the banister at the living room below. Skylar stands with her hands on her hips and Violet’s in her shadow, shaking her head.
“Told her you were busy,” Violet mutters, rolling her eyes. She’s got a string of pinecones in her hand. “But she insisted.” Violet looks up at me and her eyes go a little wider. “See? I told you not to yell his name. You scared the hell out of him. Lucky he didn’t blow your damn head off.”
“I’m not the one who shoots without reason,” I remind her.
She rolls her eyes heavenward. “You shoot a weapon you didn’t know was loaded one time and you never live it down.”
“Never.”
Joe snorts from the doorway, walking in with a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and a napkin in the other. “Boss, we got a call from a Miss Robbins? She says she has some urgent news.”
Violet looks at me. “First time I ever heard of that one.” There’s a chill in her gaze I haven’t seen often, and I look at her curiously.
“Yeah, because the case is as cut and dried as they come.” I groan. “And seriously, this Robbins woman’s intense.”
Violet narrows her gaze so slightly it’s barely noticeable, but I notice it. “I’m intense, too.”
Really? She’s playing this game with me now? I look at Joe when he opens up the napkin he holds and pulls out a cookie.
“For Christ’s sake, don’t walk in there getting crumbs all over the place,” I tell him.
“I won’t.” He pops the whole thing in his mouth and grins.
“The garland,” Skylar says, interrupting whatever’s going on between me and Violet. “Violet says it’s too much, but I love it, so you’re the tiebreaker.”
Violet grimaces.
They’re arguing over… room decor? I knew I should’ve taken on the last two cases that came to me, but I wanted to free us up to focus on Violet’s parents’ case. I’m on the cusp of a breakthrough.