Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Jesus, he's hot.
He's maybe thirty-five. He's got a beanie pulled low over his forehead, but it does nothing to hide the way his dark brows climb upward as he looks me over. His hard expression softens incrementally, and I realize he's speaking to me.
I haven't heard a word.
"I'm sorry," I mumble, shaking my head as if that's going to clear it of the screams and gunfire still echoing in the recesses of my mind. "Can you repeat that?"
He eyes me for a moment. I'm not sure what he sees on my face, but his expression softens even more. "I'm Octavio Hernandez. I'm a homicide detective with the Los Angeles Police Department. What's your name, pequeña?" he asks. His voice is a deep rumble, like water rushing over rocks. It's…pleasant. It washes over me in comforting waves, soothing away some of my raw nerves and anxiety.
He crouches in front of me, forcing the paramedic to move over a little to give him room.
"F-faith. Faith Donovan."
"Faith," he repeats. I like the way he says it like he's savoring the taste of my name on those full lips. "Faith, did you have friends inside?"
"I…" I almost tell him that I don't have friends at all but catch myself at the last moment and shake my head instead. "I'm a bartender. I was at work."
"Okay, that's good." He gives me an encouraging nod. "Can you tell me what happened?"
I glance over his shoulder at the two dead bodies in the street, and then over to the group of Nikolai's men cloistered together on the far side of the crime scene. They're all bloodstained and tight-lipped, refusing to speak to the officers standing in front of them. Not that I thought they would or anything.
In this world, problems are handled in the streets, with knives and guns, not in a courtroom. The Bratva will hunt down whoever Salvatore Amato sent and will kill them. That's how cartel warfare works. It's a never-ending cycle of retribution, retaliation, and revenge that's only gotten worse in the last few months. I'm guessing what happened here tonight is only going to fan the flames and send the city spiraling closer to all-out war.
An eye for an eye. It really does leave the whole world blind.
Ivan Sedov's dark gaze meets mine. He's one of Nikolai's three lieutenants in Los Angeles, second only to Nikolai himself. Ivan is vicious, cruel, and has spent the last five years making my life as painful as possible. I think, if Nikolai would let him, he would have dragged me kicking and screaming to his bed a long time ago and then left my battered and broken body for someone else to dispose of.
But Nikolai thinks I'm still of some use to him, and no one crosses Nikolai, not if they want to live, anyway. I don't understand why when I've seen how vicious and cruel he is to women, but my body is the only thing he's allowed me to keep.
The way Ivan looks at me sends another wave of nausea crawling up my throat. He's running out of patience, which means I'm running out of time. If I don't find a way out of this city soon, he's going to come for me…and not even the threat Nikolai poses will be enough to stop him. What the Bratva have taken from me thus far won't even compare to what Ivan will do to me when he finally gets his hands on me. I know that much down to my soul.
I've seen what he does the women. I've heard their screams and pleas. I won't be the next one he breaks for his own sick amusement. I'll die before I allow that to happen.
Even from across the road, I can read the warning in his eyes. I'm supposed to keep my mouth shut and give this cop the same runaround he and the rest of Nikolai's men are undoubtedly giving the rest of them.
Normally, that's exactly what I'd do. My survival depends on me keeping my mouth shut and my head down. But I'm covered in the blood of a girl who probably didn't make it to the hospital alive. I've seen more dead bodies tonight than I ever wanted to see. And I'm done with this whole mess.
If Nikolai kills me for talking…well, at least Ivan won't touch me then. Not even he's that fucked up in the head.
"Faith, look at me," Detective Hernandez says, reaching up and placing a hand on the side of my face. Sparks hum to life where his skin meets mine. His touch is gentle despite the roughness of his fingers. He moves my head gently until my gaze focuses on him again and then he releases me. Those dark eyes suck me in, compelling me to open my mouth and talk to him. "I know you're scared, but I will protect you. Just talk to me. What happened tonight?"