Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
“She can’t,” I say under my breath and curse, the vision of her testifying against me flashing in front of my eyes. There’s hardly any snow on the asphalt, and her footprints disappear in less than a quarter mile. With my hands gripping and twisting the leather steering wheel, I continue to drive ahead. I glance down every small gap I pass, although the main road is vacant. It’s early morning and I know there are plenty of cars that drive by here on their way to work. She could have flagged someone down.
She’s gone. My throat tightens with the realization and I pound my fist against the window.
She doesn’t have any evidence. My thoughts take over. She has no proof, and there’s nothing the police would ever find. She couldn’t possibly go to them. There’s no fucking way. But if not to the police, then where?
My heart’s racing as I pull over, and I don’t know what the hell she’s thinking.
That you’re a murderer. That you’ll hurt her.
I ignore the damning truth and keep pushing down the ache that takes over.
It doesn’t take long before I decide my next move should be to search her home. If not there, then I need to find her friend’s addresses. My tires squeal as I pull back onto the road, intent on finding her and bringing her back here. I don’t need anyone else trying to keep her away from me.
I lean over and click the radio off, only just now realizing it’s on and then turn the heat all the way up. I’m numb from the combination of the wintry air and the thoughts that won’t quit yelling in my head that I’m fucked. Turning on my blinker to head onto a busier street, I struggle to take in an easy breath.
Act normal. Come up with a plan.
There was a nasty rumor going around that Jules has had issues with alcohol ever since Jace’s death. I’d never talk about her as if she were a drunk, but I have to use something that would make people question why she’d accuse me of murder.
I tap my thumb against the steering wheel.
I don’t know if it would work. It’d be her word against mine. And there’s no real evidence.
But if I went down that route, I’d definitely lose her and everyone in this city would question if there was any truth to what she claimed.
My family name would be called into question.
My business reputation would be ruined.
More than that, the only person I ever loved would be my downfall.
A bitter huff of a humorless laugh leaves me as I look to my left and turn down the street.
I could go away for life if the police do believe her and look into it. If they find something, or if the person who sent that note comes forward with their proof. I don’t give a fuck about that, though. I haven’t known what love is since my mother died. But I know it’s what I feel for Jules.
I’ve given her the power to ruin me. That’s what true love is.
If I let her get away, she’ll do it.
She’ll destroy every piece of me.
As I struggle to come to terms with the realization, my phone rings from the passenger seat where I’d thrown it earlier. I lean over and pick it up, answering without looking to see who it is while I drive down Jules’s street.
“Hello,” I answer, hoping it’s her. Hoping she’s only asking for time or space. I won’t give her either, but at least then I’ll know we have a chance.
“Mason,” my father says.
“Father,” I say, feeling disappointment that it’s not her, followed by distrust. We haven’t spoken since I knocked him out in his office. What the hell does he want?
His voice is full of confidence but more than that, imperiousness. “I have a little something I think you want.” I pull up alongside Jules’s street but the only parking space available is a few doors down from her place, and I slow down to lean forward and look out the windshield. It’s starting to get light outside, but not so much that I wouldn’t see lights on inside her house. I scan the windows as I absently say, “And what would that be?”
“I got a call from Commissioner Haynes.” My body stills as my father continues.
His words snap my attention to him. Commissioner. “It seems your recent love interest has something urgent to confess.”
If my father thinks she’s a threat, that’s a much more concerning issue.
“She doesn’t know anything.” I’m quick to respond. I speed down the street, cutting someone off and they lean on their horn. I have to weave through the few cars out this early in the morning to get down to Fourth Street. I need to get to her. “Don’t touch her,” I say.