Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52447 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Jack starts talking. I can’t hear the words coming out of his mouth, but I’m certain Kane can’t understand them any more than I ever can. Jack rambles and when he does, it’s a waterfall of words. I side eye Kit. “You had to contact him, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t me,” he says. “I would have, but I didn’t have time. I was driving.”
“It wasn’t me,” Jay quickly interjects. “You all but knifed me to death for worrying about you last night. I wasn’t going down that bloody path again.”
I’d take offense to the “knife me to death” comment, which is obviously about my track record, but it really is my track record. Plus, I want to know why the hell Kane is here right now.
My gaze immediately returns to Jack. “That little shit,” I murmur, right about the time Kane’s attention shifts, his gaze lifting and landing on me.
The instant that connection is made, he stands, and the man is like fine whiskey in a beer joint. He reads like money and privilege with a caviar taste, but I happen to know he prefers a good pizza. As for the privilege, of course, he’s loaded, but he’s also the son of a drug lord with a mother who was murdered. No matter how much money he makes, he can never undo that part of himself.
And he tries.
Every day of his life.
People don’t know that about him, but I do.
I meet him halfway in the middle of the tiny dining area, which doesn’t offer much privacy, but with nosey ears on either side of us, it’s better than nothing. “What’s happening, bella?” he asks.
“I thought pizza before a good ol’ autopsy, but then you showed up. Why are you here?”
“Jack said you had something you wanted to tell me.”
I ball my fists in front of me, shaking them a bit, and decide Kit’s process to rein in control is not all that it’s cracked up to be. I still want to go throttle Jack. “Good Lord,” I snap. “Does that man not know you have an empire to run? He’s auditioning to be my assistant, Kane, when I’m not hiring an assistant. He thinks running to you and proving he looks out for me gets him the job.”
“It might,” he says dryly, his eyes sharper now. “What don’t I know?”
“It’s nothing more than Jack’s theory, which amounts to a guess. This from the man who guessed the next murder would be Candyman with his hook as the weapon. It was neither of those things.”
“What’s his guess, and what does it have to do with him telling me you need me?”
“Need you?” My arms fly to my sides and then dig into my pockets, where they need to stay. “I need you, Kane, but not at the pizza joint where a cheese slice is a prelude to the autopsy of a dismembered body. I have a job to do.”
“What theory, Lilah?” he bites out.
“I should make him tell you because I want to see you scare the shit out of him. I’d enjoy the hell out of that.”
He just stares at me with that stubborn set to his jaw that says this is not over until I spew Jack’s bullshit that might not actually be bullshit.
I press my lips together and bite out, “There was a man in the crowd wearing a Scream mask, who I had a little standoff with last night. Jack, in his horror-loving, fictional world, believes the killer was telling me that I’m next and that I end by way of a Scream killing, which means I get stabbed to death. And considering I’ll stab him first, that sounds like poetic justice. So maybe you did need to hear about this. Get your shovel ready. And I need to order my food.” I start to move away.
“Do not walk away from me, wife.”
My heart thunders in my chest with the power play he launches us into and did so right here in front of everyone. And if he didn’t love me so damn much, I’d put him in his place. But he does, and the chopper crash, Miguel’s visit, and his mother issues are fuel to a fire that Jack just made hotter.
I step back in front of him. “Yes, husband.”
“Damn, I like when you say ‘husband,’ bella.” He softens his voice. “I want you to live long enough for me to show you how much.”
There’s a very human flutter of emotions in my chest that does not serve me well in battle, and that’s what hunting a violent killer is. A battle. War. “Kit and Jay are well-informed,” I say.
He arches a brow. “You willingly told Kit?”
“Don’t read that as fear. Jay had a point when he said I left him in the dark about The Umbrella Man, therefore he acted out of ignorance and ended up in the hospital. I thought I was protecting him, but as you and I have discussed, ignorance in the face of danger is not bliss.”