Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
He narrows his eyes, aggravated. “Are you ever going to listen to me? Just once?”
“I do listen to you ...” I look away. “Sometimes.”
He huffs out a single-note laugh and I hear him unzipping the jacket. “Put this on.”
“No, I’m not—”
“Yeah, you are. If you’re coming, you’re wearing the gear.” He slides out of the jacket.
“I’ve been wet before,” I argue.
His brows jump to his hairline and his eyes lock onto mine as he smirks. “I’d love to hear more about that later.”
I bury my face in my hands, mortified. “You know what I meant.”
“You don’t need to be embarrassed about the effect I have on you.”
I shake my head. “I should just let you get swept away. You deserve it.”
“I’m twice your size. If anyone’s going to get swept away, it’s you.”
I take the jacket from him and put it on, the sleeves hanging past my fingers and the jacket’s waist hitting me mid-thigh. When he tries to pass me his rain boots, I shake my head.
“My feet will fall out of those, Sasquatch.”
He unlaces his regular boots and puts on the knee-high rain ones. When he walks over to his weapon wall, a realization hits me.
“If you’re still getting deliveries of supplies from Whitman, he doesn’t know what’s going on here. He thinks you’re still supplying both camps.”
He’s quiet as he secures the belt of his holster around his waist, then glances at me. “Yep.”
Excitement swirls in my stomach. Marcus has shifted the power dynamic, and I’m giddy over the prospect of being even a small part of that.
“Okay, this is ... I was in before, but now I’m a hundred and ten percent in. Making a fool of Whitman and blowing up his plans for robot soldiers? Let’s fucking go.”
His eyes land on my tattoos, his hands working on securing his shoulder holster. “You said when we questioned you that you’re here because he did that to you.”
He’s asking me— without actually asking—to elaborate on the minimal explanation I gave for the ink when he and Nova were low-key interrogating me. But I don’t even want to think about what Lochlan did to me, let alone recount it.
“He deserves to pay for a hundred reasons, and that’s one of them. He’s a festering sore on the asshole of humanity. He’s ruined countless families and lives. And he bought all that control. He’d be nothing without his money.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
I look at the black X marks on my hands. “I took birth control so a man I was forced to marry couldn’t get me pregnant. In what fucked-up hellscape is that a crime?”
His expression softens as he passes me a handgun. “Keep that dry if you can.”
“How are you doing it? Does he still think there’s research going on here?”
He nods. “Yeah. But I can’t keep the charade up forever. It could all blow up at any moment. That’s why I need to find McClain. He’s the key.”
It’s the first time he’s told me the name of the man who owned the knife before I found it.
“But what if he’s dead?”
He drops his brows, looking grim. “Then I’ll move on to Plan B, which is ... messier.”
My heart pounds as I follow him out the door of his quarters, which he locks behind us. We’re both silent as we descend the ladder, the roar of the wind and steady pounding of ice on the roof reminding me what we’re about to walk out into.
Marcus stops in front of the exit door, giving me a serious look. “You have to listen to me out there, Briar.”
“I will.”
He arches a brow, skeptical.
“I will.” There’s a note of annoyance in my tone. “Let’s go.”
When he opens the door and walks outside, I follow. He offers me his arm and I take it, because I can’t see much through the sleet and ice whipping around in the powerful wind. It grabs ahold of my jacket and I tighten my hold on Marcus’s arm, which is rock solid beneath my hand.
“Let’s check the fence first!” he calls out.
The ice chunks are almost the size of golf balls, a few thudding against my head as we walk. Marcus leads the way to the Sub, and I can feel his relief when he finds the door to the tunnel securely closed and nothing damaged.
We’re moving toward the wall when I stop, putting a hand over my eyes to shield them.
“I see something!”
He follows my gaze, then walks in the direction I’m pointing. When we get there, we find a lone piece of gray, weathered wood on the ground. He heads toward the center of camp, and soon we find another piece of wood that’s smaller, but looks the same as the first.
My hair is blowing in every direction, making it hard to see. I lean in to Marcus, whose broad body shields me.