Total pages in book: 227
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 220940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1105(@200wpm)___ 884(@250wpm)___ 736(@300wpm)
Anya knows I was with you last night. And every other night. I tried to lie. Turns out I’m not very good at it, and Anya is a master sleuth. I’m sorry.
Kiss? No kiss?
I roll my eyes to myself, adding a kiss. Because that’s who I am. And Brad is a professional killer.
Oh dear.
I frown, my fingers working fast across my screen.
What does that mean?
The dots pulse across the top, my attention split between them and Anya on her phone.
It means I don’t get to keep you a secret for as long as I’d like.
Oh?
You want to keep me a secret?
Yes.
I scoff.
Charming.
Because once Beau and Rose know, they’re definitely cutting my dick off. Will you still want me if I’m dickless?
I smile, and I know it’s stupid and goofy.
It’s not you, it’s me . . .
You’ll pay for that. Signing off. Danny’s about to kill Rose.
I frown, checking the time. She couldn’t have gotten to the school, dealt with what she wanted to deal with and gotten anywhere else by now.
Rose is at the school
And so is Danny. With his gun.
“Oh fuck,” I breathe, hearing the proverbial fireworks going off all over Miami.
“What?” Fury asks, moving in, sipping from his takeaway cup.
“What?” Anya asks, joining us.
Should I say? I’m sure the whole house will hear when we get home. “Danny was at the school when Rose got there.”
“Oh, fucking hell,” Fury breathes, going straight to his phone, undoubtedly to call his brother and get the finer details. He doesn’t need to do that. I can tell him. But then it occurs to me . . .
Fuck.
Fury frowns down at his phone for a few uncomfortable moments, obviously thinking, then looks up at me. “How did you know Danny was at the school?”
Shit, shit, shit. “Beau,” I squeak. “She was checking in. We should go.” I get up and grab my bag.
“I have to go to the club,” Anya says, shrugging her jacket on. “Mason doesn’t have Nolan, and Brad’s not there.”
“We can drop you off before Fury takes me home.”
We all walk out together, my worry for Rose real. As is my worry for Danny. Those two can’t half go when they’re pissed off with each other. I step out into the afternoon sun and immediately shield my eyes from the glare. “Quinton seemed nice,” I say as we walk to the car together, Fury tailing us, still on his phone, endless fucks coming at our back.
“Yeah, really nice.”
“I was sur—” I swallow my words, jarring to a stop, my heart crawling up into my throat, suffocating me, as I watch a man get out of a car down the street. “No,” I whisper, as Fury crashes into my back. I slip into a nearby doorway, struggling to breathe, staring at the bricks, blinking, shaking my head.
It’s him.
Huge, menacing, a constant leer on his lip, a cigar hanging from his mouth, a ridiculous fur coat. Terrifying.
“Pearl?” Fury appears, and I look at him with wide, blank eyes. “What’s up?”
“I feel faint,” I whisper, my gaze dropping to my feet. “I’ll be okay in a moment.” Breathe, breathe, breathe.
He’s here.
In Miami.
How did he . . .?
I inhale, thinking . . .
Oh no. The man that Brad killed. He must’ve followed the scent. And now he’s here to get me. Here to claim what’s his.
And, suddenly, I don’t feel safe anymore.
32
BRAD
* * *
How those two aren’t dead at the hands of each other, I don’t fucking know. Danny bundled Rose in James’s Range Rover and screeched off, leaving us hanging around waiting for Tank to pick us up, and Tank couldn’t leave Lennox’s until he got home with the ominous creature he’s hired to tail him. Something about a messy custody battle. I’m not so sure. Daniel naturally asked what happened to Lennox. We, naturally, fed him some bullshit about a fall down some stairs. Other than that, the journey back to the house was silent. The kid’s not stupid, he knows Lennox didn’t fall down any stairs. But he didn’t press.
James pulls through the gates of the house, raising his hand out of the window to Len as we pass the gatehouse. I see his Range Rover parked haphazardly, the doors open. “Jesus,” I breathe to myself, looking toward the back where Tank and the kid are. “Straight to the TV room.”
Daniel nods, looking at Tank. “You go,” Tank says, reading the silent order in my eyes. “I’ll be two minutes. I’ve got to help Uncle Brad with something. Go set up the Xbox.”
The kid returns his eyes to me. “Am I allowed to go back to school?”
“Yeah, kid.”
“Yes!” He hops out and runs through the doors, and I pray Danny and Rose have taken their argument upstairs. I look at Tank in the rearview mirror, filling the entire back seat apart from the small space Daniel just vacated. “What were you thinking?”