Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146477 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 732(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I was called in to deal with a hostage situation a few hours after dropping Harper at her apartment. I didn’t even get a chance to look into her stalker situation, and it’s been eating at me ever since. I arrived at the scene a little after 11 p.m. and spent the next twelve hours having to play by someone else’s rules, all while the bastard gunman terrorized a family.
I’m not a patient man, nor do I enjoy falling in line under someone else’s command. Especially when that person has no business calling the shots. There’s only so much bullshit I can handle, and after sitting around, twiddling my fucking thumbs for twelve hours, I devised my own plan with my team.
We had that family safe and the gunman down within three minutes.
That should have been it, but my supervisor doesn’t like having his judgment questioned. My team then spent another twelve hours having our asses handed to us, but to be honest, I think my supervisor just likes the sound of his own voice. I don’t regret it though. Never have. It’s not the first time I’ve crossed a line to save a life, and it won’t be the last.
The thud of my closing door has barely faded from my entryway when my phone comes alive in my pocket, and I groan, hoping like fuck I’m not being called in again. I need to eat, and as soon as that’s done, I’m going to crash for the next week. I’m fucking wrecked.
Dread begins to fill me as I slip my hand into my pocket and pull my phone out. It’s a little before two in the morning, and if it’s not some woman calling to see if I want to fuck, then it’s work. It’s always fucking work, and honestly, I’m not down for either right now.
A number I don’t recognize flashes on my phone, and for just a moment, I consider rejecting it. As it continues to ring, my stomach knots, and my thumb instinctively swipes across the screen.
“Hello,” I say, my back stiffening.
A sniffle comes through the phone before I hear a tone that I’d recognize anywhere. “Knight?”
“Harper? What’s wrong?” I ask, my fingers closing around my keys, more than ready to take off and find her. There’s only one reason why Harper-Rayn would be calling me, and it has everything to do with the bullshit she told me in my truck last night.
“I . . . I’m sorry,” she cries, sounding more than rattled. “I’ve been at work, and . . . I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to call you, but you said I had to call and—”
My blood runs cold as I make my way out to my truck, realizing that in the past thirty seconds it’s started to rain. “Where are you? I’m coming to get you.”
“No. No, no,” she rushes out, taking a shaky breath as I hear the familiar sound of her windshield wipers in the background. “I’m in my car. I’m just . . . Something really messed up happened at work. I don’t . . . I don’t know if I can be alone.”
I pause in my driveway, my hand hovering in front of the truck door, rain immediately beginning to soak through my clothes. “Is this the same shit you were telling me about last night?”
“Yeah,” she says in a small voice.
“Are you safe?”
There’s a short pause, and I can almost imagine her checking her rearview mirrors and making sure she’s not being followed. “I’m not sure. I think so.”
“I’ve just gotten home from work. Come to me. You can stay here and then we can figure out what the fuck is going on.”
“Are you sure?” Harper questions. “I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re never an imposition, Morticia,” I tell her, my voice softening at the idea of getting to see her. “You can stay here as long as you need. Do you know where I live?”
“Uhhhh . . . yeah. I think so,” she says. “I’ll be there in ten.”
“Okay. Drive safe, and keep an eye on your mirrors. I’ll be waiting for you.”
The line goes dead, and I find myself waiting outside my home, leaning against the pillar of my entryway that offers just a bit of shelter from the rain, all while keeping my eye on the road, anxious for Harper to get here.
The minutes tick by slowly, and I resist the urge to get in my truck and start searching for her. If she hadn’t said that she was safe in her car, then I’d already be flying toward her.
I put the front porch lights on so she knows which home is mine, and barely a minute later, her headlights crest over the hill in the distance, the light distorted by the rain. Then despite still being a good distance down the road, I push off the pillar and step out into the downpour.