Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
3
Mateo
She’s in shock. I can tell by the way she shuts down and hugs her knees tightly to her body. I’ve seen that look plenty of times.
“Where can I drop you?”
She winces as the words leave my mouth.
“I mean—” I clear my throat and try to gentle my tone. “Is there somewhere safe I can take you?”
She presses her forehead to her knees. “I don’t know.”
I don’t know this girl, not even a little. But she’s injured, in shock, and clearly in need of more than I can give. Even so, I want to help her. I don’t know why. It’s completely out of my wheelhouse–I don’t help people. I help myself.
Shit. It makes zero sense that I dropped that goddamn vase. What was I thinking?
“I guess I could go back to my dorm.”
“No. Those guys were professional. This wasn’t some random kidnapping. They know where you live, without a doubt. You can’t go back to that university.”
She gasps. “Ever?”
I shrug, and when her eyes start to water again, I pivot back to what happened. “Why are they after you?”
She swallows hard. “I don’t know.”
A lie. She can’t even look at me as she tells it. I should push her, figure out what the fuck is going on. But I don’t. For some reason, I can sense that she’s … delicate. And not just because of what happened. She’s a tender little soul. Nothing like me. And if I apply too much pressure, she might break. She’s been through enough.
“Is there someone you can call? Your family or friends?”
She snorts. “Friends? I’ve never had those. And my family …” She fades into silence with a shake of her head.
Secrets. God, for an innocent little thing, she’s wrapped tightly in them.
“I really am sorry about your vase. Was it pretty?” Her voice is almost a whisper.
“Forget about it.” I run a hand through my hair and make a decision. “Look, I’m going to take you to my place until we can figure out where it’s safe for you to go.”
“I don’t even know you. I shouldn’t.” She sniffles.
“Okay, so give me an address where I can drop you.” I glance at her. “Milly?”
She hugs her legs even tighter. “Your place is fine.”
I’m already well out of the city and into the rolling hills and stretches of forest that dot the countryside. No one’s tailing us. My phone’s been silently dinging with notifications that I’ve ignored. God, I’m fucked.
When I sense her shivering, I crank the heat.
“Thank you.” She wipes the tears from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I cry a lot.”
“Don’t be sorry.” I hit the button to open my gate, then ease up the long, winding driveway. “Milly, I won’t hurt you.” I look at her, holding her gaze and driving the narrow lane by memory. “You don’t need to be scared of me. Okay?”
“I’m not.” She gives me a nod. “I just feel so … Messed up inside.” She taps the side of her head.
“You just went through something big. It’s understandable.”
Once we’re in the garage, I get out and walk around to help her. She looks tired, the adrenaline fading from her system, and she winces as she takes a step.
“Let me.” I scoop her into my arms. She’s so light and warm, and when she snuggles against my chest, I realize it was a mistake to bring her here. Hell, I’ve made a series of bad calls from the moment I saw her, and I’m the sort of man who never makes mistakes.
I carry her into the back hallway, then stride past the study, my office, and the kitchen.
Mrs. Verne peeks out from the main dining room, a duster in her hand. “Well, hell, Mateo. That doesn’t look like a vase.”
“Thanks,” I deadpan. “I guess I just got confused. Oops.”
She smirks. “Smartass.” Following me, she starts peppering me with questions about what the hell happened and who is currently in my arms.
“Go do some more midnight dusting, crazy old lady. I’ve got this.” I shake my head and climb the stairs.
“You’ve got trouble. That’s what you’ve got, young man,” she calls at my back.
“Who’s that?” Milly’s warm breath washes over my neck, sending a thrill of heat down my spine.
“Don’t mind her. That’s Mrs. Verne. She’s my housekeeper, cook, secretary, general pain in my ass. Harmless.”
“She seems nice. Your house is really big. I’ve never been this far out of town before. My leg hurts. I know I shouldn’t complain about it. And I know I shouldn’t cry.” I feel a tear hit the base of my neck. “But I’m just tired and confused, and it hurts.”
“I’m going to take care of you, Milly. Do you trust me to do that?” I carry her into my bedroom, then through to my bathroom.
“Yes.” She nods.
“Good.” I gently put her down on my bathroom counter. “You can let go now, Milly.”