Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138981 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 463(@300wpm)
“So are we back together or what?” he asks with a hopeful look.
I laugh, rubbing my cheek on his shoulder.
“We weren’t really broken up before, dude. I was just waiting for you to wake up and grovel.”
“Ah, hell. I’ll remember that for next time. This a New York ritual you never told me about?”
“Don’t you start with that New York crap again.” I poke his ribs, then wince when he cringes, letting out a pained hiss. “Oops. Sorry!”
“Damn. Think maybe they need to X-ray more than my head.”
“My bad,” I mumble, snuggling in closer to his side. “You really took a beating tonight—and it’s all my fault.”
“Woman, it was worth it, and it wasn’t your fault. The real assholes responsible will be waking up in handcuffs very soon.” He rubs his stubble-darkened cheek to my hair. “Fuck, Lilah. I finally know. I finally know the truth—and I got to knock that fucker out for killing her.”
“Closure,” I murmur with a nod. “For Emma and for Celeste.”
“For me.” Lucas exhales heavily. “Thank you. I’d never have found it if you hadn’t been the most reckless dumbass girl on the planet. Still can’t say I approve, but I’m grateful as hell.”
I only smile again.
I’ll kill him for calling me a dumbass later.
He gets one free pass tonight for saving my life. I’m not a total bitch, right?
Quietly, I bring my other hand over to cover our clasped fingers, holding on so tight.
That comfortable silence is back between us again, that thing that always tells us we fit so easily. So perfectly.
And it’s all right to be together without saying a word.
I’m so close to dozing off on his broad shoulder, but I remember the nurses warned us to stay awake, considering our conditions.
It’s a challenge.
In here, there’s nothing but the faint sounds of equipment moving, people talking outside, the night wind, soft crickets outside the windows.
“Delilah?” Lucas whispers.
“Mmph?” I murmur, stirring against him to stay awake.
“Fuck, I’m just gonna say it. I love you,” he rumbles, his voice heavy with such heartfelt emotion.
My heart does the sweetest somersault as I turn my head to nuzzle his throat, feeling his pulse. It’s racing just as fast as mine.
“You do? Brave man,” I whisper back, tilting my head up to find his lips for a kiss. “I guess it’s a good thing I love you back.”
26
Tie A Red Ribbon On It (Lucas)
Delilah Clarendon loves me.
Days later, I still can’t get over it.
And those are busy damn days as we wrap this thing up and bring some peace and normalcy back to Redhaven.
Days of pouring over the reports Grant wrote, making sure the information’s accurate right down to the last dotted i.
Days of writing up my own reports, reopening my sister’s case file, creating brand-new evidence files linking the murders of Celeste Graves and Emma Santos to Ulysses Arrendell and Culver Jacobin. Plus, several other missing persons over the past twenty years.
They’re all poor dark-haired girls with sad eyes whose disappearances bear investigating when those Xs on that bracelet say there’s at least six more trophies on Ulysses’ hellish kill list.
Fuck, we haven’t made any headway on the Ethan Sanderson case, either.
There’s a new energy to Captain Faircross these days, a new focus I haven’t seen now that he has a lead on his best friend. I hope like hell that sooner or later, he can get a little closure, too.
We can guess what really happened, even if Ethan’s body hasn’t turned up yet. I’d bet my bottom dollar the poor boy got mixed up in some dirty business with Ulysses Arrendell.
Of course, the interviews are a disappointing dead end.
The Arrendells are all horrified and disgusted by their son, but everyone from Montero to the brothers swears they had no inkling that their precious Ulysses was a serial killer.
They work their press people to the bone, sending out appropriate public condemnations and sincerest apologies to the media.
I’m thinking it’ll hurt their business in the circles they move in.
Still not enough.
I don’t believe a word of what they say either, but there’s no fucking evidence to poach the rest of the family, hiding behind the best A-list lawyers and PR people big money buys.
I swear they’re coaching Ephraim Jacobin to stay out of hot water, too. The old man swore the same 'I know nothing' line about his son, Culver, insisting he only came in guns blazing because he thought trespassers were attacking his property.
Fuck everything about that.
As young as Culver is, someone else had to be behind the people-eating pigs before he took up the gruesome business. A kid couldn’t wrangle a herd of monster hogs all by himself.
The only thing that keeps me sane and probably prevents a heart attack from rage is one hard fact I can cling to.
Both Ulysses Arrendell and Culver Jacobin are rotting away in a Raleigh prison, awaiting arraignment and then trial.