Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 276(@200wpm)___ 221(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
“Am I supposed to express my gratitude now?” she replied, her heart stuck in her throat.
“Not at all. Women like you never learned to appreciate the gifts they are given. Have a good life, what’s left of it,” he sneered before turning and leaving the large open factory floor, heading out the same door through which he had entered.
Deidre sat waiting again. Her limbs ached, and she had to pee, but she doubted she was going to get released from her bindings in order to go. She tried to just focus on how she was going to get out of this situation. Who was coming for her and what did they intend to do with her once they arrived? Was the rest of the money theirs or did they not know about it either?
She didn’t have to wonder much longer. Within an hour, the door opened and a man’s figure appeared in the doorway, his features a mystery as the sun enveloped him and turned him into nothing more than a silhouette. He closed the door behind him and walked toward her, something familiar about his gait. Clouds shifted, allowing more sunlight to spill in through the dirty windows around them.
“Duncan,” she gasped, momentarily relieved, and then realizing that she shouldn’t be.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Niall
Niall had been tracking him since after the meeting since the messenger had arrived from the Scouser. It might be the first time in his life that he was truly terrified by something, but he felt like his stomach was tied in a knot and his heart was sewn into the back of his throat.
Everywhere, he barely missed him, and each time, he followed closely behind, but not close enough. He had to get to her before something happened that he wouldn’t be able to change. He felt like he was in his father’s shoes for the first time, racing against time to save what was important to him.
Deidre might not be his wife, but she had quickly become family. In the time they’d spent together, they had bonded, his imprint seared into her very being. She would always be his now, and he knew there was no reason or even desire to deny that. He’d been fooling himself by thinking he could take things slow with the woman who was his destiny.
He cursed as he missed the train from Lime Station to London. He didn’t have time to wait for the next one. It might be too late. Instead, he retrieved a card from the nearby visitor’s kiosk and dialed the number for a black cab. It wouldn’t be faster than the train, but he wouldn’t lose another hour waiting, so perhaps he’d be closer to a chance of making it this way.
“I need to get to London as quickly as possible. I’m willing to pay extra for anything you’re willing to do to get me there in the shortest amount of time possible,” he told the driver when he arrived.
“Aye. I’ll see what I can do, mate. Missed the fast train, huh?”
“I did.”
Luckily for him, he hadn’t been the only one too late to take the faster train into London. With an additional hour’s wait, he was looking at not getting there for almost four and half hours, and he could get there by car in four, maybe less if the driver was the right sort.
As it turned out, he arrived in just over three hours and twenty-five minutes, thanks to a few shortcuts and speed where it could be exceeded without risking being pulled over and held up by a cop with a ticket book in hand.
He paid the cab fee, along with a generous tip, and slipped through the trees that sat to one side of Deidre’s flat. He could see two men entering her house without knocking, and his blood ran cold. It was a sign that he might already be too late. Slipping down the sidewalk, he waited outside the door until one of them stepped out, then rushed him, shoving him violently back inside.
The surprise attack was enough to get the upper hand from the two men who were carrying the shoe boxes from Deidre’s closet. He cold cocked one, sending him flying backward and into the heavy glass table in Deidre’s living room. Blood rushed from his head onto the carpet, catching the second man’s eye for a moment, before he dropped the boxes in his hand and attempted to fight back.
He was too late. He was human, and Niall was much stronger, despite him being of equal size. He pulled his arm behind his back and snatched the gun from the waistband of his pants, pointing it at his head.
“Go sit on the sofa,” Niall ordered him.
The man did as asked, looking down at his partner, who wasn’t going to make it out of there alive. The life had already left his dark eyes, and blood ran down across the scar on his face, twisted into an impossible angle as he lay in a bloody pool.