Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Clark’s jaw twitched. “I do enjoy you, Miss Abrams. Under other circumstances I feel I would have enjoyed you in many other ways.”
Ick.
“The situation the way it is, I feel that course of action has passed. What I would like you to do is call your boyfriend for me,” he requested calmly.
“Yeah I’ll get right on that, after I call the police and tell them a murderer and kidnapper is shooting the breeze with me in the parking lot of the supermarket,” I said, fumbling through my bag for my phone. If only I had something useful in there like a taser or a gun. The only thing I had that could do some damage was some questionable lipstick colors.
Clark stepped forward and I retreated, smacking my head on the trunk of my car. I ignored the lancing pain through my skull and focused on the fact I was not getting freakin’ kidnapped again.
“I would urge you the refrain from calling the authorities. We have existed without them thus far and I think that should be the way we continue, considering I could tie your boyfriend and his gang to ten murders,” he threatened softly.
“Club,” I blurted automatically. “They’re a motorcycle club.”
“Whatever they are, their efforts to sabotage my business and kill me are getting a little irritating. All I want is to talk to them and unfortunately I don’t have many channels to do so. You are my only option.”
“Yeah, so I’m just going to call them and tell them to come and have a little meeting with you and the twenty or so guys you have hidden somewhere to shoot them. Not gonna happen, no matter how much you get your little knife boy to try and persuade me otherwise.” I crossed my arms defiantly.
My gaze wandered around the parking lot. A couple of people were walking in and out with their groceries. But they looked like normal, everyday people. I couldn’t expect them to come to my rescue against a crime lord.
Clark’s gaze watched my scan of the parking lot. “I give you my word that I am here alone, apart from my driver. I have no intention of turning this street into a warzone. I’m not into that kind of attention.”
I chewed my lip, not trusting him for a second. I didn’t want to put the men in danger. But I had a feeling he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
I glared at him. “If you’re lying and one of those men gets hurt, I swear to you I’ll find a way to burn your tasteless mansion to the ground with you inside it,” I hissed.
Clark nodded.
I pulled out my phone.
“Babe,” Brock answered.
“I thought we talked about this. That’s not a way to answer the phone Brock. ‘Babe’ is not a substitute for greetings, answers to questions or explanations for actions,” I said automatically.
“Okay. Hello, my beautiful, vivacious Amy, how are you?” he murmured.
I eyed Clark. “I’m not the best since I’m currently sharing the same air of Clark Devon and he won’t let me leave, which means my ice cream is going to melt,” I informed him calmly.
I heard his sharp indrawn breath, then curse. “Jesus, Amy, why in the fuck was that not the first thing you said?” he yelled and I flinched slightly. “Where are you?” His voice was laced with fury.
“In the parking lot of Trader Joes,” I said. “Clark seems to want to have a meeting with you and the boys and it seems I’m his unwilling secretary. He’s not my idea of a suitable employer—his health benefits suck,” I told him, glaring at the pompous psychopath in front of me.
I heard Brock barking orders in the background. “We’ll be there in five,” he paused. “Are you okay, baby?” his voice was soft.
“I’m fine. Pissed off, but fine.”
“He’s dead if he touches a fuckin’ hair on your beautiful head,” he growled.
“I’d rethink the murder plan due to all of the witnesses,” I stated. “I’m thinking that’s why Clark chose this particular location.”
Another curse. “Sit tight. We’re coming to get you.”
I hung up and glared at Clark. “They’ll be here momentarily, Mr. Devon. Can I do anything else for you? Open a vein? Oh no, wait, I’ve already done that. How about I pick up your dry cleaning?” I asked sarcastically.
“If this meeting goes as I hope, Miss Abrams, this will be the last time you hear from me.”
“A girl can dream,” I muttered.
Silence descended upon us and I was itching to get out of this man’s presence. What seemed like seconds later the roar of motorcycles filled the air. They must have broken the land speed record getting here.
Brock pulled up close to us, leaping off his bike. He strode toward me, pulling me behind him and yanking a gun out of his waistband to point at Clark’s head. Clark looked unruffled. I had to give it to him; the guy had a mean poker face.
I touched Brock’s sleeve lightly. “Maybe not the best place to be pointing a deadly weapon at a man’s head, sweetie,” I said quietly, eyeing the parking lot.
“Give me one reason not to blow your fuckin’ head off right here,” Brock snarled at Clark, ignoring me. Cade, Lucky, Bull, Asher, and to my surprise Steg all flanked Brock, while a couple of prospects spanned the lot.
“A long stay in a state penitentiary would be a good motivation,” Clark replied, tipping his head to the people walking out of the store, then to the cameras perched in our direction.
Brock seemed to struggle with that for a moment, not lowering his gun.
“As much as I would like to see this fucker’s brains splattered on the sidewalk, I can think of some other things I’d like to spend shitloads of money on other than lawyer’s fees,” Cade muttered quietly, hand on Brock’s shoulder. All of the men seemed on high alert, resting their hands on their belts. Brock breathed, then lowered the gun.
“Get Amy out of here,” he instructed Cade.