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)
“You okay?” Rose says, placing a hand on my arm.
“It’s busy.” My thoughts tumble from my mouth without instruction, telling Rose where I’m at, so I rush to reassure her. To play down my threatening panic attack. James is in there. I just need to make it to Ja— “Oh,” I yelp, being knocked a few steps back.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” a woman says, her purse falling to the sidewalk, her things scattering. She crouches, and Fury moves in, prompting me to put my hand up.
“I’ve got it,” I say as I lower to help, collecting a lipstick and a pack of condoms.
“Here.” I look up, just as she glances up at me too.
“Thanks.” Her smile falters, her head tilting as she takes her things, stuffing everything back in her purse.
“You look familiar,” I say, taking her in, wracking my brain for where I might know her from.
“Beau,” Rose says, helping me to stand as the woman rises with us.
I hear Fury calling me, and I let Rose pull me on, looking back at the woman on the sidewalk, still wondering where I know her from, as she clearly does the same with me. I don’t have the mental capacity right now, so I give up, returning my attention forward.
Naturally, there are a few grumbles from the waiting patrons when we bypass the line and we’re escorted in.
“Who was that?” Rose asks, as we follow the two mountains, Fury tailing us.
“I don’t know. I know her face, though.” My cell chimes, and I look down at the screen, the name slowing me to a stop.
“Beau?” Rose says, as Fury’s front meets my back.
“Okay?” he asks, whistling for the two men up front to stop.
I stare down at my cell, my heart that was racing with anxiety now racing with dread. I honestly thought he’d got the message. I’m in love with a deadly assassin and nothing is going to change that.
“Beau?” Rose presses.
“It’s Ollie,” I say, looking at her, for what I don’t know. “A message from Ollie.”
Her face twists. “He’s got some seriously thick skin. Can’t you block him?”
I might have to, because if James finds out he’s still trying to reach me or turn me against him, Ollie will be dead, and while he’s been a dick, I don’t wish him dead. I nod and open the message, ready to click on his name to get his contact details to block him, telling myself not to read his words. But they’re not words. He’s sent me a picture. A picture of James.
James with a woman hanging off his front, his mouth at her ear. “What?” I whisper, recognizing the trouser suit. And where I know her from hits me like a brick in my face. I exhale and swing around, searching the sidewalk outside for her. I don’t have to search far. She’s not moved.
Staring back at me, I see the recognition on her face. She’s realized where she knows me from too. She smiles mildly, and it’s knowing, small but interested.
On top of the image of her hanging off my man’s body, it’s too much, my stomach feeling like it’s been sucker punched. My veins heat, anger consuming me. Blinding me. I feel Rose take my cell from my hand. I hear her quiet curse. I see her move toward the woman before me, ready to do God knows what, but she doesn’t make it.
Fury swoops in, lifting her from her feet and removing her. “You are not in any fit state to cat fight,” he grumbles, looping his spare arm around my waist too and lifting me, carrying us both away from the woman into the club.
He places us down and looks at me. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.”
“And what would that be?” I ask. “Tell me, Fury, because I am oh so fucking curious why my boyfriend would have his tongue in another woman’s ear.”
His bearded jaw rolls, his nostrils flaring, and I can absolutely appreciate that it’s because he’s mad with James too. “I don’t know,” he grates.
“Then let’s find out,” I say, pivoting and walking into the club. I collide with James just inside the entrance, and I conclude he was obviously coming to meet me. Or the other woman. Beth. That’s her name. Beth. Or maybe he was checking that Beth had left the building before I arrived.
I feel so fucking stupid. All dressed up like this, so unlike me, sending coy pictures. No wonder he didn’t reply. He was busy.
“Hey,” he says softly, holding on to my upper arms. “You’re here.”
The anger swirls in my gut, burns my blood, gaining momentum unstoppably. The pressure in my head is beginning to hurt. “Get the hell off me,” I yell, yanking myself out of his hold, squaring him with a look I’m sure could kill.