Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Fine, then when she gets back. I need to either get an IV of caffeine or hit the sack for a few more hours.” I turned toward the bunkhouse and my bed, wishing Charlie wasn’t in town or off with the other women or whatever she was doing, so she could get under the covers with me.
“She’s gone.”
I froze, turned around, set my hands on my hips.
“Say what?”
“Gone.”
“Gone,” I repeated, my world going up in smoke.
“Her stuff’s gone. Truck’s gone. Trailer’s gone. Seraphina’s gone.”
“Gone? You’ve gotta be fucking with me. I texted with her last night around eight.” The words fell out over stiff lips. Clint didn’t play around like Johnny did. Not about something like this. He knew I’d throat punch him.
He shrugged, ran a hand over his neck, his tell that he was frustrated. “She’s gone. Snuck out. I only figured it out when I couldn’t find Seraphina. I first thought maybe she’d taken her for a ride or something. It’s a pretty morning, and she’d enjoyed it when Johnny and I had showed her around. But no.”
“Gone?” I said once more. What the fuck?
He held up a hand. “Look, I know you two were close.”
Were? How about are. I stared at him. He knew close was a diplomatic word for fucking.
He pointed to the box I’d forgotten I was even holding. “That order… the itemized list tucked inside matches the quantity. She ordered a shit ton of Vitamin K.”
“It’s Vitamin K on the streets. You’re using the slang term as if that’s what she does—peddles the shit.”
He arched a brow. “What do you know of her?”
“What do I know?” I knew she was a workaholic. She was close with her grandfather. I knew she had sensitive nipples. I knew she was ticklish on the backside of her knees. I knew she had a little mole on the inside of her right thigh I liked to kiss before I got to her pussy. It was like the north star leading me home.
He pointed at the box. “This was delivered for her, and now she’s gone. Disappeared, gone.”
“You think something happened to her?” I freaked a little at the possibility. I glanced around as if she might be in a ditch nearby needing me to save her.
“She took everything,” he told me. “If she was injured or something happened with Seraphina, she would have told us that shit. No one sneaks off in the middle of the night because things are okay. Something’s up with her, and I think it has to do with that.” He pointed at the box.
“She’s not a drug dealer.” Now I was pissed at their accusations, but the box didn’t lie. What did she want to do with this much ketamine? Why have it shipped here? Seraphina didn’t need all that shit, and if she did need some, we could get it from the vet in town.
Why the secret? Why sneak away?
I pulled out my phone, texted her.
Me: Where are you, doll?
I waited thirty seconds. A minute. Nothing.
“I called Claymore to see if they showed up,” he told me. “Nothing. He seemed surprised she’d even left, which means her trip hadn’t been planned or expected.”
“It’s a long fucking drive,” I said. “Maybe she’s just not there yet.” I couldn’t imagine her driving through the night. While the roads were fairly flat between here and Colorado, there was a shit ton of wildlife. I knew the stats about cars vs. animals all too well.
“Look, I know you guys had a fling, but she’s got you by the balls. She’s into some shit, and you need to let her go. That box is bad news.”
I shoved it into his chest—which was tamer than what I wanted to do to him—and walked into the bunkhouse, slammed the door shut. Taking the stairs two at a time, I pushed open her bedroom door. It was empty. I stalked across the hall to my room. She was neat as a fucking pin, but I thought maybe she’d left a thing or two on the floor. Nothing. The bathroom was picked clean of anything feminine. Not even a pink razor in the shower.
Clint was right. She was gone. I stalked down the stairs.
I paced, kicked a chair, tossed my hat onto the couch.
Why the fuck did she leave? Why wasn’t she answering my text? I immediately went to the worst, that she was in a ditch somewhere and couldn’t respond, but no. She’d intentionally left. And done so while I wasn’t here. That thought alone was like a strike below the belt. She’d known I would be in town. I’d texted her and told her. Was that why she left so she wouldn’t have to face me?
And the ketamine? I tried to remember what I’d overheard yesterday morning.
That’s more ketamine than we need or that I wanted… As long as it doesn’t expire, it should still be good.