Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57854 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Cain nods. “And?”
“Said she never came home last night. They expected her at midnight, and when she didn’t show, they figured she was spending the night with her date.”
His jaw clenches, but he doesn’t otherwise react. “And?”
“And when she didn’t come home this morning, Lottie got scared. Said she didn’t know what to do or how to reach her, and thought you’d want to know.”
“I would’ve wanted to know last night,” he says through gritted teeth.
I’m glad I’m not the one on the receiving end of that anger. It boils at a low simmer, threatening to scald and eradicate anything it touches.
“Right, sir, but you were traveling, and not even due back until today.”
Cain curses under his breath, then turns and jerks his chin at me. “You. Come with me.” Like I’m going anywhere else? I’m wearing his damn T-shirt, and he just hired me. If he gave me a cot to sleep on, I’d camp right here.
I thought there were a lot of people around his house before. Now, it seems like people that work for him come out of the damn woodwork. Big, muscled guys. A few in military fatigues and others in civilian clothing mill around the large house, talking in hushed tones. None of them speak to Cain, and it takes me a minute to realize the reason they don’t is because they’re waiting for his command.
“Who’s Skylar?” I ask, panting as I follow him up the steps two at a time.
His jaw tenses before he responds.
“My sister.”
Oh, wow. Shit. Now that didn’t show up in the search history. And why is a part of me relieved she’s family, that she isn’t a woman he has romantic ties to? My gut reaction spells danger, but I shove it down. I’ll deal with that later. Now, I’ve got shit to do.
His sister… Has everything I read about him been a lie? Do I really know anything about him at all?
He shoves open the door to his office, and I’m not surprised by the way it looks. His desk is large, sturdy, and intimidating, a paragon of masculinity… just like him. Massive windows look out at the pool below, and on another wall one overlooks the waterfront view. Storm clouds gather to block the sun, darkening the room even though it’s still daytime. He flicks on a switch, and bright overhead lighting illuminates the room.
“Sit.”
He gestures for me to take a seat across from him.
Why me? Why now? Doesn’t he have anyone else that works for him that could do whatever it is he wants me to do?
Lanky follows us into the room.
“Joe, meet Miss Price, our new hire.”
I give him a little wave. “Hey.”
Joe takes a seat beside me and leans forward, elbows on his knees.
Cain pulls out his phone and swipes. A grid shows up, with a little squiggly arrow, and he curses under his breath. “It shows her home, and it shows she hasn’t left since Wednesday. That can’t be right.”
Joe shakes his head. “I was worried about this.”
Cain blows out a breath. “Cut the shit, Joe. You don’t have to be polite. You not only worried about this, you warned me about this. Said she wouldn’t go for it.”
I gather up my courage and clear my throat. They both look at me. “If I’m working for you, it would be helpful if you could fill me in a little?”
Joe looks to Cain for permission, and when he gets it, he nods. “Skylar’s his younger sister.”
“Got it. How old is she?”
“Only eighteen.”
I cringe. Anything could’ve happened to an eighteen-year-old. She could’ve hung out at some guy’s house and drank the night away, be still wrapped up in his sheets and not bothering with the time. She could’ve lost her phone or hooked up with someone and decided a trip to Vegas would be a smart idea. Really, anything goes.
Joe continues. “We put tracking software on her phone, because Cain wanted to keep an eye on her.”
“Are you her guardian?”
A muscle tenses in his jaw. “No.”
“Does she know you track her?”
“Found out two weeks ago.”
“And lemme guess. Wasn’t too fond of her big brother keeping tabs on her anymore?”
He huffs out a breath. “How’d you know?”
I nod. “It’s kind of a given.”
“Yeah, so she took all tracking off her phone…”
“But you’re not dumb enough to really not keep tabs on her.”
People frown all the time, a common facial expression one might say. When Cain Master frowns, the temperature in the room shifts, and my skin prickles. “Of course not.”
He flips open his laptop, and the screen flashes to life. Cameras outside of a coffee shop show people entering and exiting with paper bags and steaming cups of coffee. Another camera shows the inside of a typical college kid’s apartment, complete with beer cans stacked in blue plastic recycling bins, empty pizza boxes, and about ten pairs of shoes scattered haphazardly around the couch.