Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 145091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145091 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Taylor
No. Talk to me. Call me. Tell me about your dad. Just call me, Drake.
Taylor’s phone rang and she put it to her ear. “Hey.”
“It’s so hard to be here, baby,” he said quietly.
“Taylor? Do you need a moment?” Brad’s brow was raised. He sat across from her at the conference table, his eyes on her phone.
He was being sarcastic, but she did not care. Drake needed her. Over the last few days, he’d been more and more open, and her heart was threatening to soften and she couldn’t manage to stop it. She could tell herself later on that he was only doing it to keep his hold on her, but in the moment, all she wanted to do was help him through this. She nodded Brad’s way. “Yeah. Probably more like a couple of hours. I’ll be back later.” She walked out of the conference room. “I’m sorry. Your dad’s being a butthole.”
Drake laughed. “He is. He is indeed. And it’s weird. I like realized my mom had changed her security detail a couple of years ago, but there are so many women here. So many, and they all have guns.”
She chuckled. “You should be careful then. So tell me how your mom is doing. Is she ready for the report?”
As he began to talk, she slipped inside her bedroom. This was far more important than anything else she was doing this afternoon.
* * * *
Brad
Stop distracting Taylor. She has work to do.
Drake
Nah.
* * * *
Drake put the phone on speaker and closed the door. She’d called him. Up until now, he’d always been the one to call her. A little panic had gone through him when he’d seen her name on the screen. Was she calling to tell him to fuck off? Or that the op was moving forward and he wouldn’t see her again?
He was shockingly scared of taking this damn call.
“Hey. What’s going on?” He was only slightly out of breath since he’d been downstairs when she’d called. He’d been sitting in the front lounge with his mom and dad, who were hosting a few colleagues of his mom’s for dinner this evening. He hadn’t minded running away from that scene at all.
“Nothing. Just wondering what you were doing.”
He took a long breath. “Well, panicking for one thing. I thought you were about to tell me they called and you were going in and I wouldn’t get to see you again.”
There was a pause on the line. “No. We still haven’t heard from her. She’s gone quiet on the Dark Web, too. Jax has been tracking her. He’s pretty sure he’s going to be able to ID her eventually. She’s a bit reckless, according to him.”
He didn’t like the idea of some reckless criminal asshole meeting with Taylor, but he also knew what his role was. To support her, not drag her down. She was smart and resourceful, and she absolutely wasn’t reckless. “I’m hoping to get back to Wyoming before you have to leave. I’d like to be on that plane with you.”
She was quiet for a moment and then her voice came over the line, all breathy and sweet. “What will you do to distract yourself? It’s a long trip to London.”
His dick tightened. “I can think of a few things.”
“You better prepare me. I think I need to hear those things, Drake. Sir.”
The dinner party could definitely wait.
Chapter Thirteen
It had been nine days since he’d last seen Taylor, and Drake sat across from his parents feeling the miles between them. Both from Taylor and his parents. If there was one thing he’d learned from staying at his parents’ place this time around, it was that his childhood was done. So was his youthful phase. He was ready for his good boyfriend phase, but that would have to wait another few days.
They were in the club they belonged to that catered to the DC powerful, a place he’d been in a thousand times before, but this time felt different. This time he was keeping secrets from both of them, and he was surprised at how alone that made him feel.
Donald Radcliffe had been quiet and somber the entire time Drake had been home. They’d had no more than three conversations that didn’t involve his mother, and none about what was important. They’d talked baseball and how his dad’s golf game was going. His father had barely mentioned Julia, and only once to tell Drake he knew he would handle it.
If his father cared about Julia in any way, it didn’t show. There was no guilt or remorse. No longing for the girl she’d been. She was simply a problem to be dealt with and any nuance to the situation was ruthlessly squashed down.
His mother was another story. She closed the file he’d given her and passed it to his father, who quietly studied the information laid out there. Taylor had done an excellent job, and there was nothing in that folder that didn’t make perfect sense.