Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“I’m just worried about you is all. I don’t know what I would do if something ever happened to you.”
Luke’s gaze softens, and he crosses the room, dropping down to eye level with me. He cups me by the cheeks and brings my face close to his. His eyes scan my face, and all I want to do is tell him to stay home, to hold me in his arms all night.
“I’m one of the most dangerous men in the country, and you’re worried about someone hurting me? Do you have so little faith in me, wife?”
“I have faith, I’m just worried.”
“Well don’t be.” He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose, then my forehead, and then my lips. The air in my lungs stills, and my heart races in my chest. All I can feel are his lips molding to mine, and I grab onto his shirt, clutching onto him. Before the kiss can go anywhere, he pulls away, a tight-lipped smirk on his lips.
“I love you, and I’ll be back before your pretty little head even hits the pillow.”
“Sure, you will.”
“I will. If you have any problems, use the cell phone in the bedroom to call me. If I don’t answer right away, then I’ll call you right back.”
“I won’t have any problems. That’s why you had this crazy security system installed, right? So I’m safe here, when you are gone?”
“Well yeah, no one is breaking into this house again.”
“Then there is no reason to worry about me. Just go, and be safe, please be safe.”
“Always am, baby,” he says with a wink, and shoves his gun into the back of his jeans. He leaves through the front door like every man would for work, except his work involves killing people, not your typical nine to five job. Getting up from the couch, I go to the window and watch as he pulls out of the driveway.
I realize in that moment, that this is the first time he has left me alone. Of course, he knows that I wouldn’t try to run anymore. I’m past fighting him. Past fighting how I feel about him.
When he’s out of sight I go back to the couch and sit down, grabbing the remote and skimming through the channels. With him gone nothing seems to interest me, my thoughts circulating around him. What’s his job tonight? Who is he going after? Will he return home with a wound, or worse, will he return at all?
Freaking myself out isn’t going to help me right now so I get up and decide to do some light cleaning to ease my mind. I wash up the dishes from breakfast, and run a load of laundry, before looking at the clock. One hour has passed, but there’s no way. It seems as if time has been standing still.
Going to the fridge, I look through the groceries we bought the day before, and try and determine what I should make for dinner. Whatever I make, I want to make enough for two since Luke says he’ll be home before bed, maybe he’ll want dinner when he gets home. I don’t know, but I still decide to make a casserole dish. Pulling out all the items I’ll need, I get everything mixed into a mixing bowl when I hear a soft knocking noise.
My heart skips a beat, thinking Luke is home, but then my excitement turns into something else. An uneasy feeling creeps up my spine, intensifying with every second I stand in the kitchen. When the knocking stops and I hear the shatter of glass off somewhere in the house, my body finally kicks into action.
Dropping everything in my hands onto the counter, I run out of the kitchen.
I need to get to a gun. I need to get to the closet. I need to hide. There are a thousand things running through my mind. The alarm system hasn’t gone off yet, but Luke must know that someone’s broken in, right?
I’m halfway up the stairs, when the lights cut out, and the entire house falls dark. A scream catches in my throat. Don’t give yourself away. I tamp down the fear, and tell myself everything is going to be okay as I continue up the stairs. Hushed voices speaking an unfamiliar language filter into my ears.
Oh, shit, my chest starts to rise and fall rapidly, and I tiptoe further up the steps, my legs wobbly, and my stomach-churning.
I can hear the unknown men moving around the house. I’m near the top of the steps, trying my best to make myself invisible all while forgetting about the squeaky floorboard. As soon as I step on the board the squeak fills the air, the heavy footfalls pause, and I hold my breath, praying that they didn’t hear where it came from, but it’s too late.