Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 162567 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 813(@200wpm)___ 650(@250wpm)___ 542(@300wpm)
MAY
Panic surges through me as I scream into my phone. “LUNA!” I yell, trying to capture her attention. It’s an obvious butt-dial. Loud music blasts from her side and muffled voices pile on top of each other.
But I know what I heard.
Someone said: You fucking bitch.
It sounded nasty.
Now everything on her end returns to a jumbled mess of commotion.
Sweat drips off my brow, the barbell in its rack. I straddle the old weight bench in my bedroom and try to catch my breath so I can listen better.
“Fuck…a dick…bitch.”
My heart pounds. “LUNA!” I scream again, hoping she can hear me. I just want to make sure everything is okay. Especially since she’s at a frat party tonight. She texted to see if I wanted to go. She’s one of the few family members who don’t mind tempting me with a good time, knowing I’ll reject the offer. I appreciated the invite, even if I felt a little fucking badly telling her I had to train.
Akara has been Luna’s bodyguard for months now. I could call Kits and ask if everything is okay—but calling Akara involves hanging up on Luna. Something I hesitate to do until I have more answers.
“Suck…it.” The deep drawl comes across the phone again.
“LUNA!” I yell.
My bathroom door whooshes open. Banks appears completely buck-naked. I’m too worried to really soak in his confident, unbothered stance that practically says I’m ready to cross the Wild Wild West for you. His concern doubles as he sees my panicked expression.
“What in the fucking hell is happening?” He rushes to my side.
“I don’t fucking know.” I hop up from the weight bench and explain the butt-dial and what I’ve heard so far.
First thing he grabs is not a pair of pants. He goes for his radio on the dresser. I watch as he quickly switches on comms. Clicks the mic. “Banks to Akara, who’s on Luna’s detail tonight?”
My stomach lurches.
“Isn’t Akara supposed to be on her detail?”
Banks wipes a hand down his mouth. “He had some meeting with my dad…”
Fuck this. I round to my nightstand and grab the keys to the security SUV. I can’t stay here while Luna is at some frat party getting hounded by assholes or worse. Please don’t be worse.
Please fucking please.
Banks frowns deeply, and I suspect he got an answer.
“What?” I ask him.
He shakes his head once. “Akara was short with me. Just gave me a couple names.” His eyes flit to mine. “One of them is Frog.”
Frog.
Akara’s cousin.
The greenest of the green temps! Fucking fuck. “He put Frog on Luna’s detail? For a frat party?” My blood runs ice-cold. Eyes bugged wide.
“There’s another temp with her,” Banks reminds me like it should be okay.
It should be.
But I know what I fucking heard!
“It doesn’t sound good, Banks.”
“Is the line still connected?” He picks up my phone.
“A lot of it is muffled,” I admit, but I know Banks believes me. He puts the speaker to his ear, listening intensely.
“I can’t hear Luna.”
“She might be too quiet.” She’s a fucking pro whisperer.
Urgency suddenly narrows his gaze, hardens his face.
“What’d you hear?”
“A guy shouted, get back here.” He hands me my phone, just as his cellphone rings on my bed. I see the Caller ID, and Banks sprints to answer the thing. I put my cell to my ear, trying to hear the conversation from the frat.
“Fuuuuuck.” A deep groan comes out in a frustrated tone. “Where are you going?”
I don’t know what’s happening. But after the sound of footsteps, the line goes quiet. I check my phone screen. Call dropped.
Did she hang up?
Did her phone die?
Did she lose fucking service?
“We’ve got to fucking go, Banks,” I say, and then I add something I’m betting Luna would want. I tell him, “Don’t alert Moffy. Not yet. Whatever is happening…if it’s something innocent, Luna won’t want her brother involved unless it’s totally necessary.”
She would call Moffy if it’s an emergency.
As far as I’m aware, Maximoff is still sleeping. And that lessens the fear that squeezes my throat in a vice. She has to be okay. She hasn’t called Moffy. She has to be okay.
But I want to make sure.
Banks talks to Akara, cell pressed to his ear, and gives me a nod. “Akara’s gonna meet us there. Luna’s temps aren’t rogering up.”
They aren’t rogering up?
What the fuck…maybe they all did lose signal.
I’m pushed into hyper-drive. “Go, go, fucking go.” I’m practically shoving Banks out the door. I head into the hallway while he’s still jumping into a pair of joggers. No time for Banks to grab a shirt, he just seizes a blue jacket off the coat rack at the front door.
We’re lucky that everyone is asleep in the penthouse. It’s easy to leave without passing Moffy, Jane, Thatcher, or Farrow. My hands tremble slightly by the time we reach the car.