Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Her chin juts out in defiance. But she turns and does as she’s told.
I follow her in, close the door, lock it, and then look down at her as I kick off my boots. “Don’t move. Because, if you recall, I’ve got no problem at all with chasing you down naked. I will tackle you before you get to the stairs and—”
“No, let me guess.” She puts up a hand to cut me off, but doesn’t look up to meet my gaze. “Then you’ll push me down them, leave my twisted and broken body to decay, and—”
“Just stop.”
Finally, she looks up. “What? That’s your MO, right? Threaten women with gruesome acts to keep them compliant? God, I can’t even imagine what your ex-girlfriends went through. I bet there was a lot of therapy afterward.”
For some reason, I find this funny and the laugh that bursts out is inappropriately loud, especially inside a bathroom. It startles her and she shrinks back, pressing herself into the wall as she meets my gaze.
“You’re crazy,” I say.
“You’re evil,” she sneers back.
I reach over and turn on the shower. “Just be quiet and sit there until I’m done.”
She turns her head when I start unbuttoning my pants and doesn’t look back. I get in the shower, wash up, reach for a towel, dry myself off, and then grab my pants and put them back on before coming out.
Clover looks up at me, her eyes lingering on my chest, wet again from the water dripping off my hair. I wink at her as I slip my feet into my boots. “Told ya.”
“Told me what?”
“Nine point seven five, baby. Now let’s go.”
I stop at my pack on the first floor, pull on a shirt, stuff yesterday’s clothes back inside, and hike the pack up onto my back. Then we leave.
Outside, Clover pans a hand in the direction of the woods just as I take a scarf out of my pocket, so she ends up pointing at me instead. “What’s that?”
I look down at the scarf, then smile and look back up at her. “Your blindfold.”
It’s very apparent that she didn’t think I’d follow through with the blindfold. Like maybe our night together invalidated my suspicions about her. She pauses for a moment, maybe weighing the pros and cons of complaining, but she’s so done with me, she holds her protests in and says nothing as I tie the scarf good and tight around her eyes.
“You’ll have to hold my hand, so don’t take it the wrong way, OK? I don’t like you, Clover. You don’t look good in those clothes, and… well, as I’ve already mentioned, you’re not even pretty.”
She just laughs out her response. “I’m so out of your league, Riggs, it’s not even funny.”
I don’t laugh because she would hear that. But I do smile as I take her hand. I guess, if I have to kidnap a woman, I could do worse than Clover Bradley. She’s obstinate, spoiled, and has no common sense at all, since she’s been arguing with me for days even though I’ve been threatening to kill her. But she’s right about one thing, she’s not a four. I wouldn’t ever admit that she’s a ten, but… yeah. In another life, I’d hit that. “Come on, my little pet. Let’s go.”
She’s got no time to internalize that insult because I walk forward and immediately, she’s stumbling. “Slow down. I’m blind here, OK? You can’t just walk off and expect me to keep up!”
“We’re literally in the grass behind the house, Clover. There’s nothing to trip over.”
She gives me a derisive snort. “Says the privileged man with eyes.”
I suck in a deep breath and hold it, looking up at the sky. I’m frustrated and we’re one minute in to this very long trip. When I let the breath out, I force myself to be calm. “Sorry. I’ll go slow.” I start forward again, but she doesn’t move. “Now what?”
“Can I hold on to your arm instead of your hand?”
Is she serious? I can’t tell. “Sure. You can hold on to my arm.”
The breath she lets out comes off as relief, but I’m not convinced it is. I just have a feeling that she’s playing me. Her hands start feeling for my arm and then she’s gripping my bicep tight with both hands. It’s a weird, confining feeling and immediately, I’ve got an urge to push her off.
But then she says, “I swear I’ll walk faster this way. I will. If I stumble, you’ll hold me up.”
“Fine.” And I start walking again.
As soon as we enter the woods she sighs. “The shade feels good.”
She’s not wrong, but I don’t say anything back, hoping to deter her from being chatty because I’m really starting to think this whole plan is a bad idea that might get me killed.