Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
I snorted. “That’s a load of crap. Levi Thompkins is a pathological liar and a sociopath. He’s putting me through this because I rejected him. He does that, you know. A girl says no to him and he makes them regret it. Just ask his last girlfriend, Sadie Knowles.”
“Lying bitch!”
I twisted my neck. I hadn’t noticed Levi sidling up behind us. One of the other officers barked at him to come back.
“What is she telling you?” he demanded. “She said she was going to kill us! We didn’t take her seriously, so she got one of her boyfriends to mow him down like trash. Arrest her!”
“Who the hell knows what that guy is talking about,” I breezed. “I didn’t kill him or get anyone to do it. I didn’t even know he was going to be here tonight.”
“She’s a liar. Rafael Dumont, Cato Dumont, or Wilder O’Rourke. Those are the guys you want. One of them was driving the car.”
Turning my back, I dismissed him. “Check my phone. I didn’t know the three of them would be here, and I didn’t call anyone to hurt him after they showed up. I have nothing to do with this, officer. Please, I just want to get back to my date. That sad, pathetic little man-boy shouldn’t get to ruin my night just because I’m here with someone else.”
Philips looked from me to Levi. She was too new to stop me seeing the doubt creeping into her eyes.
“Let me see the phone.”
I handed it over. Twenty minutes and a warning not to leave town later, Lucien and I were finally free to go.
We got in the car and turned right instead of left. The mood was definitely gone, and my chocolate tart was an unappetizing melted lump. No secret spot for us that night. We headed straight back to the Gallery.
I flopped on the couch, melting my weary bones into the cushion.
“I’ve seen what this club can do and I still can’t believe it.” Lucien freed my aching feet from their heels and placed them on his lap. I sighed under his foot rub. “One private message and one of the members got in a car and ran a guy over. Just like that.”
“Not quite just like that,” I said, grin coming back. “I had to offer him or her almost all the money Wilder siphoned out of those bastards’ bank account. I basically took out a hit and called it a dare.”
“Who’s next? Wesley or Levi?”
“Both. I’m not going to have them killed yet, but I will keep up the pressure.” It was hard to believe that a year before at the same time, I was sitting in Catholic school discussing the meaning of ethics and morality. “You saw Wesley standing there off to the side, not moving or responding to anyone. He was always the weakest of the group,” I said. “He’s about to crack. I’ll give him a chance to do the right thing while I deal with some other people who deserve my attention.”
I fished my phone out of my bag and searched for a number I didn’t save. Finally, I found it and sent them a message.
“Done.”
Lucien tugged on my foot, sliding me closer. “Our night doesn’t have to end with sirens and car searches. Come upstairs. I’ll give you a real massage... with that bottle of chocolate sauce in the fridge.”
My tiredness evaporated in a blink. “Let’s go.”
Swooping down, Lucien lifted me giggling into his arms.
“Luna?” a voice called from the kitchen. “Hey, did you see this?”
“See what?”
Lucien changed course and carried me into the kitchen. Rafael stood at the stove, prepping to make something delicious. He jerked his chin at the table, and the note lying on top of it.
Happiness dimming, I climbed out of his arms. Resting next to the paper was a key to the Gallery. Victor’s handwriting looked back at me, spelling out two simple words:
You win.
I DARE YOU TO HIT OWEN Thasher With A Car.
Dare: Accepted
“—can’t believe—”
What does that even mean, I win? Win what?
“—they’re saying about you—”
And not responding to my calls or texts? My fists balled. How childish is that? If Victor has something to say to me, the least he could do is say it to my face. Discuss it with me and give us a chance to work it out. I won’t spend our whole marriage dealing with this passive-aggressive crap. Because we were still getting married.
“Hello?”
We had to be.
“Hello,” Katie cried. She knocked on my forehead. “Are you listening to me?”
“What? Oh, sorry. I was out of it.”
She clicked her tongue. “I’ll say. But I can’t blame you. They’re getting real out of control around here, blaming you for everything that goes wrong. Some drunk idiot hits Owen and runs, and Levi tries to blame you. I never liked that guy.” She said the last part mostly to herself. “He’s got a mean streak. Meaner than the average Royal.”