Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77335 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
The man fired, clipping Romney on the upper arm.
He bent over, clutching his shoulder. When he pulled his hand back and saw blood, he screamed. “Blood! That’s real blood! Are those real bullets?”
The man fired again.
Hunter turned and blocked the fire as he hustled me down the narrow stairwell.
Unfortunately, Romney followed us.
Hunter kicked open the door to a small supply closet and pushed me inside.
Again, unfortunately, Romney squeezed in next to me.
After giving him an assessing once-over glare, Hunter turned to me and said in an urgent tone. “Stay still and silent. I’ll be back.”
I reached out to grab his shirt. “Ginnie. You have to find my friend.”
He nodded. “I’ll do my best. Remember. Silent.”
The closest was thrown into darkness the moment he slammed the door.
A second later, Romney flipped on the light switch. “Who is he to be giving us orders?”
I flipped the switch off and rasped, “He’s my…” I stopped.
I didn’t want to say bodyguard. Bodyguard was such an intimate term. That was Reid’s job. And only his. “He’s my security detail. Now be quiet.”
He flipped the switch back on. “I don’t take orders from you or him. We have to get back up to the deck where the guests can see us.”
I turned the light off. “Why on earth would we need the other guests to see us?”
He flipped it on. “Because they need to see me rescuing you!”
In my shock, I forgot to turn the light back off. I stared at him with wide eyes. “What have you done?”
He leaned his head down into his chest, giving him a double chin. “What? Me? Huh? What? Nothing.”
I grabbed his shirt front and shook him. “What did you do? Did you hire those men?”
He flung my arms off. “Stop asking questions.”
I pressed my hand to my forehead. “Oh my God! Romney you have to stop this! Now. You have to go call this off before someone gets hurt.”
Twisting his torso, he pointed to his arm. “I did get hurt.”
I scoffed. “It’s barely a scratch.”
Just then, there was an exchange of gunfire just outside our door.
I crossed my arms over my chest as I hunched down, curling into a fetal position.
All I could think about was Reid’s big strong body and his large arms and his hard muscled chest as I desperately wished I was in the safe shelter of his embrace in his bed right now.
The door to the closet swung open.
My hope that it was Hunter to tell us it was all clear was dashed.
It was two of the gunmen. “Here he is!”
Romney raised his arms and waved his hands. “I’m going to tell my mummy about this. You’re not following the script!”
I gasped. “You did hire these men!”
At least there was a positive aspect to that. If these men were just hired actors, they couldn’t be that much of a threat. Right?
Maybe the bullet that hit Romney was a fluke. I’d heard before that even blanks could be dangerous. Maybe it was a stunt gone wrong?
The gunman pointed what looked like a very real gun at me. “You shut your face.” Then he pointed to Romney. “And you, your money wire didn’t clear.”
Romney’s eyes widened, right before he snatched me before him as a human shield. “She’s an heiress! Her father is loaded. Billions!”
Through clenched teeth, I said, “We are so not getting married.”
The gunman dragged us both into the hallway.
And that was when I saw him… Hunter lying face down in a pool of blood.
Terror nearly strangled the oxygen from my lungs.
Romney may have hired them, but these were definitely not actors.
They were a real threat, and I was in real mortal danger.
CHAPTER 29
REID
Hunter: SOS three, maybe four armed masked assailants. I’ve been shot. They’ve taken Charlotte and her douchey fiancé hostage as well as every other guest on the ship.
I stared at the text message Hunter had just sent me.
There was no fucking way that some bougie charity event was being robbed. Almost every person at that event should have their own private security around the perimeter.
Reid: Are you fucking with me?
I sent the replying text and kicked back on my couch, lifting my feet on the table and laying my head on the pillow she had slept on last night.
It still smelled like her.
Like Earl gray tea, mandarin oranges, and flowers. She smelled soft, feminine, and refined.
Sitting on my couch and smelling the pillow she slept on was a new low for me.
I used to torment and beat the shit out of men who did pussy shit like this, but now I got it.
Not that I would ever admit that to anyone, ever.
Hunter: No. I don’t know if anyone has gotten the word out. The assailants have taken all of the cell phones.
It was not the first time Hunter had played this prank on me.