Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Oh God, shit just keeps getting worse and worse.
He shrugs as he pulls the gun open to check the ammunition, and then he turns to me. His eyes scan my face and he smirks.
“What?” I ask.
He grabs my hair and straightens it. “Your hair is on crooked.”
I instantly grab the wig and straighten it up. “That’s the least of my fucking problems,” I whisper.
The elevator comes to a halt and Stace tucks the gun in the back of his jeans and we slowly exit into the hall. Looking both ways down the long and scary corridor, we walk quietly to our room, and when we get to our door Stace puts his finger up to his lip to order my silence. He then points to the other side of the hallway. “Wait over there,” he mouths.
Oh God, he thinks they are in the room. I take my place over at the far wall and he swipes the key card and opens the door. He peers in as I hold my breath. The room is dark and silent.
Are they in there?
He waits for a moment and then he disappears into the darkness.
“Please don’t be in there, please don’t be in there,” I whisper again and again. He turns on the light and then checks the room and comes back to the door. “The coast is clear.”
I let out a deep breath and walk into the room before he closes the door behind me. We stand still for a moment looking at each other as we process what just happened.
“We are going to have to stay here for the night.” He sighs. “Try and get some sleep.”
“Are we safe?”
He shrugs. “Safer than we are out there.”
It’s at this time I get a good look at his face and I think that guy has kicked his cheekbone in. One half of his face is swollen. “Stace.” I frown as I put my hand up to his face. “Your cheekbone is broken.”
“It’s fine.” He winces as I touch it.
“We need some ice,” I murmur. I think for a moment and then pick up the phone and call reception.
“Hello, room service,” the bored operator answers.
I fake a calm voice. “Can I please get a bottle of champagne and a bucket of ice brought up to our room, please?” I glance at the clock. It’s 2am. God, what must they think?
“Yes, of course.”
“Thank you.”
I walk Stace into the bathroom and sit him on the side of the bath and he winces. A deep cut is above his right eye and is still trickling blood, but it’s his left cheekbone that I am worried about. I wet a cloth and start to clean him up and he sits and watches me.
“You okay?” I ask as I wipe his forehead and push his hair back to look at him. “You’re very quiet. Are you really hurt?”
He nods and rolls his lips as if he wants to say something but is holding it in.
“What?” I ask. “What is it?”
He shrugs. “I just wonder why you are so worried about a little blood when you are the only one…” He stops himself midsentence.
“The only one that what?”
“Nothing.” He grabs the cloth from me and stands and walks back out into the room.
I follow him. “Say it. Just say it.” I hold my arms open. “I want you to tell me what you were going to say.”
He turns angrily. “You are the only person who hurt me today.”
My heart skips a beat.
He shakes his head. “And it fucking pisses me off that you have the ability to do that.”
I don’t know what to say.
“Stace,” I whisper softly. “I am sorry for not asking you if you took them, but what was I supposed to think?”
“That I would steal from you,” he barks angrily. “Why do you tell me you love me when you obviously think so little of my character?”
“I do love you,” I murmur.
“Well, you know what I don’t love?” he sneers angrily.
My heart drops. “Me?” I whisper.
“Being made to feel like a piece of shit.”
“I never said that,” I fire back.
“Yes, you did.”
“When?”
“When you put me in the same category as your ex-boyfriends and your father.”
My eyes tear up, because he’s right on target. That’s exactly what I did today. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
A knock bangs at the door. “Room service,” The waiter calls. I look through the peephole and see him standing with our champagne and ice. Stace walks back into the bathroom frustrated that we have been interrupted, I blow out a deep sigh as I open the door. “Thank you,” I murmur as I take the tray from him and lock the two deadlocks as he leaves.
I wrap a handful of ice in my t-shirt and walk back into the bathroom where I find Stace now in the shower, his back to me as he soaps his body up. I take off my clothes and get into the shower and hold him from behind. I wrap my arms around his large body and squeeze him tight. I press my face on his back and the water that runs down the drain is a shade of pink, tinged with blood. We stay silent for a long time, both lost in our own thoughts.