Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
I'm getting myself worked up over nothing. My life isn't in danger. If Tommy or Hemlock wanted to hurt me, they could've done so while they were here. There would be no need to come back under the cover of darkness to do it.
Despite the reassurances I have running through my head, it doesn't stop my heart rate from increasing and my skin starting to itch.
The silence surrounding me becomes as noxious as the noise was and in less than a minute my breaths are coming out in pants, and I swear I'm going to pass out from lack of quality air.
I open my eyes, certain I'll be able to calm down in a few minutes, but then I see the shadow move on the other side of the room.
My brain feels like it glitches because I don't understand what's happening. Before it has the chance to come back online so I can scream, a hot hand is covering my mouth and I’m being lifted from the couch.
Chapter 33
Hemlock
I know I shouldn't be pacing. It gives too much away, but I can't seem to stop the movement across the room before turning and walking in the other direction.
Jericho is sitting at the table despite it being close to three in the morning. I don't know where Jersey is. I'm just grateful the bastard isn't here to witness my lunacy.
The man hasn't said a word to me, and I'm grateful that he's here in case I really lose my shit. I can't seem to control my choices these days.
"Maybe a shot of whiskey?" Jericho offers on my walk back in his direction. Those are the first words he has said to me since he joined me here over half an hour ago.
"Liquor makes me fucking crazy," I say wondering just how much of a confession that actually is.
"It's liquor that does it?" he asks, pointing to my continuously moving feet.
I want to snarl in his direction, but instead a huff of laughter escapes my lips. I think I’m starting to like the man, which is really going to make getting the boot from this organization suck.
Finding people I can rely on and trust has been a lifelong battle for me.
"Can someone fucking explain to me why Zara Hailey is back in the goddamned basement?"
Jericho chuckles himself when Ace storms into the room, and the laughter tells me although we hadn't discussed it, he knew she was down there from the moment he walked into the room.
"Explain," Ace demands as he steps in front of me, preventing my last lap across the room.
"I wouldn't suggest--" Jericho begins, but his words fall away when I glare down at Ace.
He's not a small guy by any means, but I'm massive, my body almost as big as my hatred for nearly everything in this world.
"She was in danger."
"You're the danger to her," Ace argues, and I barely register the scrape of Jericho's stool as he stands and begins to make his way to us as if he's already predicting me beating this shit out of Ace.
"I put her in danger," I agree. "Now it's up to me to keep her out of it."
"She was less than a handful of hours from getting out of the fucking state," he says, and it shouldn't be any surprise to me that the man has also been keeping tabs on her. "Have you lost your fucking mind?"
I don't justify the question with an answer, but he might not be far from the truth. Still, I've made up my mind and there's nothing he nor anyone else can do about it.
"You can't hold her prisoner," Ace says, and although his words make complete sense, I still can't see myself letting her go. "That would make you the same type of man that we're trying to defeat."
Ace stands a little taller, our size difference not fazing him in the slightest. I have no doubt he's probably taken down men bigger than me, but I don't fear him either.
I dart my eyes to Jericho, needing to determine whose side he's on, but he looks a little bored standing a few feet away although it was worry that brought him that close in the first place.
"What would you do?" I growl.
"I wouldn't have fucking fallen for my goddamned mark," Ace yells, his face turning red as he lifts onto the tips of his toes so he can get closer to looking me dead in the eyes.
I shove at his chest, needing the whiskey I can smell on his breath out of my face.
"No," Jericho snaps, putting a hand on each of our chests when Ace tries to get right back in my face. "That isn't going to solve anything."
"You're just like Adair," Ace snaps.
"The fuck I am," I snap back.
"Not even close," Jericho adds.