Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
But maybe none of that meant anything.
Maybe I didn’t mean anything.
* * *
I tossed and turned in bed, sweat covering my neck and back. My lips quivered with silent screams that couldn’t escape my throat. I tossed and turned constantly, shifting from left to right and twisting the sheets around my body.
It was a nightmare.
The worst one I’d ever had.
I’d just left the bar where I worked and was headed down the sidewalk. My purse was over my shoulder, and my heart was racing because I knew what was about to happen before it even happened.
I stopped in front of a pitch-black alleyway, knowing exactly what lurked in the shadows.
I should just walk away, but I didn’t.
Then I heard the guttural sound of a man dying. Deadly moans escaped his lips every time a boot was kicked into his side. He was being beaten to death in the darkness, his moans growing louder until they stopped.
I was relieved they stopped, but I also knew what that meant.
Nathan was dead.
Knuckles stepped out of the blanket of shadows, his tattoos covering his body and his blue eyes piercing. He circled me like a shark, owning the sidewalk since there was no other pedestrian in sight.
He owned this city—so it was just the two of us.
I couldn’t run.
Blood was on his forearms and knuckles, my brother’s blood. He continued to circle, his smile wide and malicious. He lifted a forefinger and dragged it across my cheek, smearing blood across my skin. “I’m going to fuck you, sweetheart. And after you’re dead, I’ll fuck you again.”
I bolted upright in bed, clutching my chest in desperation of trying to breathe. Sweat was stuck against the sheets, making them damp and sticky. My heart was beating so hard it hurt in my chest. I kicked the blankets off because I didn’t want anything touching me.
I didn’t want to be in that bed anymore.
I needed fresh air. I needed the sky. I needed somewhere that could make me feel free.
The first place I wanted to run was Conway’s bedroom. There was no place in the world I felt safer than in his arms. But that idea immediately disappeared when I realized it wasn’t an option.
Conway didn’t care if I had a nightmare.
I pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and headed to the first floor. The house was silent, pitch black and lonely. The sweat from my body stuck to my clothes, and I could feel it drip down my back. My heart was still racing even though I knew it was just a dream. But that dream felt more real than my reality. The only place I found peace was at the stables with the horses. When I was there, I didn’t have to think. I just worked until I was dead tired.
That was the only thing that could get me through this.
6
Conway
The alarm from my phone shrieked at top volume.
It wasn’t the same alarm I used to wake up in the morning.
It was the alarm I used when shit got serious.
It meant a door had been opened without the code or a window had been smashed. It meant someone was trying to fuck with me—and they would regret it. I hopped out of bed and pulled on sweatpants and a t-shirt at lightning speed. Then I grabbed my semiautomatic from underneath my bed, which was fully loaded.
Dante would have heard the alarm too, and he would be appropriately armed.
The first place I went was Sapphire’s bedroom. I had to make sure she was alright before I explored the rest of the house. I opened the door without knocking and saw the bedside lamp was turned on. The sheets were kicked back, and she was nowhere in sight. “Muse?” I checked the bathroom and the living room. “Muse?”
She wasn’t there.
Fuck.
Now I was terrified in a whole new way.
I headed back into the hallway and took the stairs. I had my gun at the ready, prepared to kill anyone inside my house that shouldn’t be there. I wanted to call out for Dante or Muse, but it was too dangerous.
“Sir?” Dante stepped into my sight at the bottom of the stairs. He held a shotgun with a bulletproof vest strapped over his chest. He wasn’t just a chef and the caretaker of the house, but a man prepared to murder anyone who stepped foot inside the place without being invited. “It’s Sapphire.”
I stopped at the second landing. “What? Is she alright? Where is she?”
“She tripped the alarm when she left out the back door. The light from the stables in on, so she must be down there.”
What the fuck was she doing down there? “It’s three in the morning.”
“I realize that, sir.”
“What could be so important for her to go down there in the middle of the night?”
Dante lowered his gun and shrugged. “No idea, sir. Would you like me to fetch her?”