Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Delia looks like she’ll explode.
Goddamn.
I need to shut this demon up before she baits us into her trap.
“Jesus, just...just get out of our way,” Delia snarls, jolting several paces ahead, stopping just short of Evie in the hall.
“What’s the matter? The basement was perfectly fine while you were defiling our wine cellar,” Evie snaps.
“Move, Mother. I won’t ask again,” I bite off.
“Then knock me over, Christopher. Break a rib. I know you’ll try to get in touch with Bruce and twist his righteous anger into supporting your sick little fling. I’ll make sure you never get the chance.”
Enough of this shit!
I’m about to push past her and pull Delia with me when she lunges.
The witch goes for my eyes with her long jade nails.
I barely swerve away in time.
Delia and I both catch her, shove her back, fling her so hard against the wall she bangs it with a loud thud!
I’m surprised there isn’t an Evie-shaped hole in the drywall.
But she spins, sputtering, one hand near her abdomen like she’s hurt.
Shit.
“Now look... look what you’ve done!” she shrieks, pressing her fingers into her side and wincing.
Delia’s hand goes clammy in mine as we watch her fish around clumsily for her phone, lift it to her lips, and start talking.
“Hello, yes? It’s Evie Triton at the Burr residence on Pacifica Shores. I’m calling with an emergency. My son and my stepdaughter, we had an argument and they attacked me—”
Fuck.
I don’t hesitate a second more after she starts rattling off the address.
I jerk Delia forward before my asshole mother can block our way again.
Soon, we’re flying upstairs.
She’s in tears, stunned, and barely able to move, so I hoist her up and carry her.
It’s dark upstairs, but it doesn’t stop me from leaping over a couple drunken stragglers on the ground, heading for the elevator that will set us back down near the garage.
“Chris, what’s going on? Where are we going? We’re so screwed!”
I clench my jaw, refusing to tell her she’s right.
I don’t say another word till she’s in my truck and I help her buckle up.
She isn’t protesting by the time I start the engine.
The slowest garage door in the world opens, and then we’re tearing down the long, winding road downhill.
My fingers tap the alert on my remote for the snob in the guardhouse over and over again, but the gate isn’t moving.
What the fuck?
I slam the brakes on and stop next to his window for about three seconds.
A single look tells me everything I need to know.
Jeeves stands there at full attention, a stern look on his face.
He looks right through me and slowly shakes his head.
“Open the hell up,” I snarl, knowing what my odds are that he’ll listen.
He doesn’t, of course, just shakes his head and points back at the house, one hand snaking toward the taser on his hip.
Damn.
He’s got balls for wanting to tango with a very pissed off former SEAL, I’ll give him that.
Only, tonight, his balls aren’t half the size of mine.
“Delia, hold on,” I whisper firmly.
It’s all the warning I give her before I rev my engine and stomp down on the pedal, flooring it.
The guard shouts something incoherent after us, and then there’s nothing but the screeching crunch of metal on metal as my truck plows through the gate.
Delia yelps and bursts into tears, covering her face as the noise swallows us.
It seems like a full minute to the open road, where I pray there’s nothing loose hanging off my truck.
We’re roaring down it like a bullet when she surprises me.
She starts laughing until she’s red in the face.
“What’s so damn funny?” I whisper, trying to decide where the hell we should go.
I start heading toward the coast, planning to get the hell out of the city, wondering if this joyride broke something in her pretty head.
“It’s nothing,” she says, wiping at her tears. “I knew we’d be in trouble if our parentals ever found out. But I never thought we’d knock down the gate and go on a chase! How many laws did we just break? How long before Evie sics a police helicopter on us?”
Shit.
I’m starting to realize that’s a real possibility.
I also don’t know the answer.
All I can do is reach between us and clasp her hand.
I don’t let up till we’re almost fifty miles outside the city, parked in a hotel lot, ready to see if they’ve got any spare rooms.
So far, no cops, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.
Fuck me.
This is not how I imagined my last night in heaven before I’m bound for hell.
* * *
An hour later, we’re holed up in a cheap room with peeling paint and a rattling AC on full arctic blast, and Delia says she still feels like she’s melting.
I’ve got her on my lap, stroking her hair, doing all I can to calm her down. We made a brief stop for fresh clothes, shorts, and t-shirts so she wouldn’t have to worry about fleeing in that mangled dress.