Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 364(@300wpm)
“You left with two strangers to take one of them to rehab. You went along for the ride. You are a lunatic,” he deadpanned.
I scowled at him. “Words hurt.”
He laughed softly, relaxing. I almost did a double take because was that the first time I saw him relax?
“All I’m saying is that it makes sense if you’re not totally with it right now. Plus, this whole project.” He motioned out the door. “You need to feel in control of something.”
The corner of my mouth turned down. “You’re saying I’m a control freak?”
He snorted, quietly. “No, but you do come off as someone who likes to feel in control—”
“Isn’t that everyone?”
“—and like I said, a whole bunch of things happened that were out of your control.”
I had to confess, “I do like feeling in control.”
Another slight snort from him. “Glad our minds just came together.”
Our gazes collided, and held.
And still held.
The air in the truck grew thick.
My body heated, and I couldn’t stop the image of other parts of us coming together.
I was lonely. I tried to tell myself that. I was hurt because Beck rejected me, and there was this new guy who turned up a second time and hadn’t left and I was attracted to him. That’s all this was. It wasn’t anything more.
And I was completely lying to myself.
But at least I could admit that I was lying to myself, because every cell in my body was protesting the idea that he was just a guy. He wasn’t. He was more. I just didn’t know what he was yet.
I bit down on my lip, needing to shove that image and that feeling down.
“Stop that,” he said, roughly.
“What?” I let go of my lip, confused.
His eyes were staring at my mouth. Hard.
I chewed on my bottom lip again.
He groaned, his eyes darkening.
My mouth fell open again, surprised.
New hope jumped to my chest, and held there. It was suspended because . . . I didn’t know, but what did that mean?
He continued staring, no, glaring at my mouth. That sensation of being pulled toward him was filling me again. An invisible rope that had wound itself around me, and it was tugging me toward him. My eyes grew heavy, my eyelids were starting to fall, but I began to lean toward him—
“We’re here.”
His gaze was solely trained on my mouth as he said that, his voice raspy and hoarse.
I blinked, realizing he was so close to me.
I didn’t care. That thought hit me hard, making me blink a few times, trying to right myself, but it was true. I didn’t care what I was about to do because I had to see. I had to know. So with that thought, I began to reach for him.
Suddenly, Jake stiffened.
His eyes snapped to the rearview mirror, and as soon as he did, he exploded into action. “Down!” He wrapped his arms over me, throwing himself on top of me. At the same time, he twisted around, his arm rising.
Pop! Pop! Pop!
The window shattered.
I screamed as the glass fell over us, but Jake was still shielding me.
Someone or something was going past the window, and fast.
Jake jerked upright, aimed, and he shot.
It happened so quickly. A few seconds.
Then he was gone, out the door, and running after something or someone.
I sat upright, my heart in my throat. A part of me didn’t want to run after him. I didn’t want to see further violence happening in front of me, but that was just a brief thought. The next thought, that came immediately after, was to get out and help.
I hurried out of the truck, choosing to go through his already opened door. Once I stepped down, my knees gave way. I clung to the door, keeping myself upright, but I was transfixed by what I was seeing happening a few yards in front of me.
Jake was wrestling with another man. They were both in dark clothing. The other man was wearing a ski mask, and he had more bulk on him, looking like he outweighed Jake by twenty pounds. Not that it seemed to matter. Jake kicked out the guy’s knee, and when he would’ve screamed, Jake shoved his gun in the guy’s mouth.
And—bang!
I stumbled backward.
My hand let go of the door handle in shock.
He—killed him. Just like that.
I mean, of course like that.
That guy shot at us first. It made sense Jake would shoot him, but in the mouth . . .
I think I was in shock.
I drew in a breath, wanting to cry. Wanting to scream. I didn’t, though. The pop sounds from the other guy’s gun. They’d been like soft pops. My vast knowledge accumulated from movies told me that he had used a silencer.
I groaned, my knees buckling, and this time I couldn’t hold myself up.
I slid to the ground. My legs splayed out underneath me.