Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76693 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Come in,” Dad calls out to the visitor.
I expect Dax maybe or a doctor, but Sloane peeks her head inside. She gives me a tight smile before walking over to my bedside.
“Gemma?” I ask, still breathless from all my bathroom efforts.
“She’s well. They’re going to release her in the morning.” Sloane crosses her arms over her chest and frowns at me. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I’ve been beaten nearly to death with a shovel in a maniac’s wine cellar.”
Sloane smirks. “I see your snark remained intact.”
“He never leaves home without it,” Dad chimes in with a singsong voice.
I start to laugh, but then the searing pain in my ribs stifles it. “Fuck. This hurts.”
“I know,” Sloane says softly. “It’ll pass, though. I thought you might want to know that Skeller was treated for his gunshot wound to the shoulder and will be transported soon to jail to await sentencing. He’s been arrested for kidnapping, assault, and attempted murder.”
Thank fuck.
“Too bad you didn’t get him center mass,” I grumble. “That asshole doesn’t deserve to live.”
Sloane gives me a sympathetic smile. “He’s going to go away for a long time. Rather than a quick death, he’ll have decades to think of what he did. He’ll die in prison, Two.”
“How did you find us?” I rasp out. “He said he made it look like we ran away together and then got rid of the phones.”
Not to mention, my car is now at the bottom of the fucking lake.
That hurts almost as much as my physical injuries.
Sloane steps closer and lowers her voice. “Let’s just say we had unofficial help from an associate.”
“Who?”
The nurse excuses herself and Sloane’s shoulders relax.
“Jude,” she says quickly. “Nathan had him looking into all of his friends for anything suspicious. Jude, no doubt illegally, hacked his way into Skeller’s emails and other cloud-saved documents. In all his digging, he found pictures of Gemma. A lot of them.”
I scowl, the hatred for that man boiling my blood. “Sick fuck.”
“He also learned that the workshop you two supposedly bailed were the only real people he invited. The rest were newly created emails. It was obvious it was a setup and Jude picked his way through all of it.”
I owe Jude a beer.
“My God,” Dad hisses. “The lengths this Skeller man went through. Horrible.”
“With our ‘anonymous tip,’” Sloane continues, arching a blond eyebrow, “we were able to get a warrant and move quickly. It looks like we arrived just in time, too.”
“If you didn’t…” Dad trails off. “Thank goodness you did.”
Sloane nods grimly.
“I’ll get out of your hair and let you rest, but when you’re up to it, we’ll want to ask some questions,” Sloane says, handing a business card to Pops. “Skeller was caught in the act. It’s an open and closed case, but we do need Two’s full statement to button everything up.”
Sloane leaves and my dads relax. Exhaustion wins over and I start to drift off.
It’s finally over.
That stalker is out of my girl’s life.
Forever.
Gemma
Weeks later…
I’m nervous.
Really nervous.
I gaze up at Two’s cute home through my windshield, feeling uneasy about the upcoming dinner. It’s been nearly a month since the abduction and I’ve seen lots of Two and his fathers, but this is the first time we’ll all spend some time together the four of us alone.
I hope they like me.
Shutting off my Tahoe, I exhale a deep sigh. I consider calling Willa or Tate for a quick pep talk but decide to put on my big girl panties and go inside.
My gaze travels over to Two’s workshop. I know he’s been itching to get back in there. He’s spent a lot of time recovering from the beating he received from Owen and hasn’t had the energy for much else. Our time spent together lately consists of me picking him up and driving him to and from school, to his doctor appointments, or to meet with Tate.
As I approach the front door, I can hear raised voices inside the home. It sounds like an argument. I panic for a moment, worrying if it’s about me. Before I can rush back to my car to regroup, the door creaks open.
Two’s dad, Grant—a burly guy with a trim beard and a love for flannel—answers the door with a small smile. “Good to see you again, Gemma.”
I officially met them the day I was released from the hospital. I’d left my room to spend much of the day at Two’s bedside. His parents watched me with curiosity and were polite, but we didn’t exactly spend time getting to know each other. It wasn’t the right place or time.
Today, apparently, is the official meet-the-parents day.
“Hi,” I say, plastering on a megawatt grin. “How’s Two feeling today?”
Grant gestures for me to come inside. “Grumpy.” He chuckles. “He’s still upset over the loss of his car. We’ve been on the hunt for something vintage, but nothing compares to that Rover in his eyes. He loved that thing.”