Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” I smile and brush past him, going to the others at the bar, looking back to see Fury going to the office. To check with the boss if he can indeed take me home in an hour.
“Everything okay?” Lawrence asks.
“Everything’s fine.” So, so fine. I smile and place my purse on the stool next to Pearl, pulling my cell out and slipping it into my back pocket. “Will someone order me a lemonade, please? I’m just going to the restroom.” I leave my purse on the stool and walk away calmly, and as soon as I round the corner, I break into a jog, cursing Beau to hell and back for putting my neck on the line like this. But I will be damned if I am letting her disappear on her own again. I will check in with the men. I will let them know we’re okay. They must appreciate that.
I burst through the door and work my way down the cubicles until I find Beau's petite body squirming to get through the small window above the fourth toilet. She grunts as her body dislodges, and her legs disappear through the small gap. “Well, if she struggled, I’m fucked,” I scoff, getting up on the toilet seat.
I peek out and see Beau jogging down the alleyway and curse her to hell again as I pull myself up and clamber through. But I completely misjudge the drop to the ground, which looks farther away now that I’m hanging out of the window. “Beau!” I whisper yell, clinging to the frame. “Fuck.” I turn my head and see her stop and look back.
“What are you doing?” she shouts, running back to save me, reaching to help.
“I’m coming with you.”
“Oh, no, you’re not.” She retracts her helping hands, just as I lose my grip. “Shit!” She catches me, breaking my fall.
“For fuck’s sake, Rose.”
I get to my feet. “For fuck’s sake, Beau.” I retort. She has nothing to say to that. “And how are you getting to Amber’s anyway?” I ask.
“I’ll get a cab.”
I reach into my pocket and pull out Fury’s keys. “Okay. You get a cab, I’ll drive.”
The keys are quickly swiped from my hand and Beau is heading to the side of the club to collect Fury’s car. “That’s a sure-fire way to kill us both,” she says, and I gasp, outraged, going after her.
“I’m not that bad at driving.”
“Get in,” she snaps, slipping in behind the wheel.
I do as I’m told and get my seatbelt on. “We are both going to die when the boys find out we’re not in the club, so who drives is a moot fucking point.” Beau ignores me and pulls off rather calmly, though I see the storm in her eyes. “What are you going to do, Beau?” I ask.
“I’m going to get some answers.”
“Great,” I say, settling in for the ride. “And good luck.” Not just finding the answers that nobody seems to be able to find, but good luck when James gets hold of her. We’re both dead.
Beau gives me an impatient look. I give her a begging one.
Please don’t get us killed.
I keep quiet as Beau drives us around town, drumming my lovely pink-polished nails on my thigh, watching the screen of my cell like a hawk, just waiting for the call. Waiting for the signal that will suggest all hell breaking loose. The moment they realize we’re gone. It’s been twenty minutes. We’re doing well, although God only knows what Esther and the others think I’m doing in the restrooms.
“She’s not at his place, or hers,” Beau suddenly says out of the blue, pulling my eyes from my cell.
“What?”
“Amber. She’s not at Dad’s place, and she’s not at her apartment.”
“So where is she?”
“I don’t know,” Beau muses, taking a right, heading toward Miami Beach. A small inhale of breath tells me she may have just had an idea. “The penthouse.” The car is abruptly going significantly faster, her lightbulb moment injecting some urgency into her. “Dad told me he would give me the penthouse of the new development he was investing in.”
“You think she’s there?”
“I’m out of other ideas.” She looks across to me. “I’m really mad you’re here.”
“You won’t be the only one,” I mutter. “If he calls, I’m answering.”
“I know,” she says, holding up her phone. It’s on. Therefore, trackable. It still won’t lessen the wrath we’re about to face, though. But it offers me a mild comfort that Beau doesn’t see this latest mission of hers as long-term. James will fly off the handle when he knows she’s missing again. Then he’ll wonder what the hell is going on when Otto can track her. And as if they’ve heard us discussing how mad they will be and how they might handle us, my phone starts ringing on my lap.