Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 479(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
She steps forward and raises her hand to slap me. I stop her by twisting her arm around behind her back, making her spin around. I lean in over her shoulder and growl into her ear, “That was a bad move on your part.”
“You arrogant bastard,” she hisses.
“I’d watch what you say,” I calmly state. I let go of her, and at the same time, give her a slight push forward. She winds up losing her balance and falls to the floor. Unfazed by her cry of pain, whether mental or physical, I don’t care. “I will deal with you later.” With that statement, I turn around and leave her to herself. I have better things to be doing right now, and that is getting back to the man-chase at hand.
As the door closes behind me, I hear her let out an anguished cry of distress, and I shake my head. She’s tried to tell me she loves me on many occasions, but I wouldn’t let her. I never led her on, but I guess she thought she could sway me.
One would think I had a fucked-up childhood to be this way, or to be in this sort of business, but I didn’t. I had a normal childhood with normal parents.
I have found over time that there is no rhyme or reason as to what makes someone turn out for the better or the worse. I’ve always wanted to be king of a mountain, an entrepreneur, and on the leading edge of something big, so here I am. I’ve accomplished every task I’ve set out to do. Anything I’ve ever wanted, I’ve been able to succeed and then some.
Somewhere along the way, however, I found myself getting sidetracked, obsessed with a young woman. I never saw myself getting into this predicament with my emotions, but there you have it. Julianna owns me.
I walk into my office to see Jared sitting in one of my overstuffed chairs, reading a stack of lab reports.
“Hey,” he greets, not looking up from his papers. “Thought your hands were magnetized to your keyboard. Things must be going well.”
“I don’t know how things are going yet. Last I heard, they were in a chase.” Jared lets out a low whistle, and before he opens his mouth, I shut him down. “I don’t need to hear your shit either.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything. I’m just damn glad you aren’t destroying your office right now.”
As I sit down at my desk, I reply, “I’ve known you too long. Every time you let out a low, long whistle, your mouth then becomes engaged with words.” I key in a few numbers and pull up the tracking software program to see where my men are in the scheme of things. The small blinking light illuminates on the screen, and I feel a slight relief course through my body. As I watch the screen with intensity, one minute later, the light fades out.
“Fuck!” I blurt out, and then tap my fingers on the side of the computer screen, thinking it needs a little prompting to redisplay the little light I’ve been watching all day.
“What’s wrong?” Jared asks, looking up from his paperwork.
“I don’t know,” I say with irritation, and tap a little harder this time, as the computer didn’t seem to get my message. Still, no luck. “What the hell?”
Curious, Jared gets up from his chair and comes over to stand behind me. Peering over my shoulder, he leans in and clears his throat. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Yeah, me neither.” I refresh the browser, and nothing changes. “She was all over the damn radar for the last hour, and now there’s nothing.” I clench my jaw in growing frustration, and then pick up my phone, getting ready to dial one of my men. My cellphone rings at that very moment, so I hang up the phone’s receiver and grab my cell. It’s Justin.
“What’s the news?” I gruffly ask.
“I’ve got some bad news, boss,” Justin says with hesitation, and my gut twists with dread. I stay silent for a moment, letting his words sink in.
“Looks as if they discovered the tracking device in her hip, and then removed it. After chasing down and scaring the shit out of a Coca-Cola truck driver, we searched his truck from top to bottom. Found your device pinned underneath the bumper.”
There is nothing for me to say. I’m speechless. With my hands beginning to shake, I disconnect the phone call. I close my eyes as my stomach drops to the floor, and a wave of nausea washes over me.
I run my hand over my face in a show of loss and frustration, and lean back in my chair with an untold amount of tension vibrating through my veins.
“What’s the verdict?” Jared asks concerned, still standing beside me.