Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129027 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 645(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
She yanks away from me like my words have jolted her back to reality, reminding her who she was just clinging to.
I expect a fight about not staying here, but she just nods and turns away from me. “Okay.”
She swipes at her eyes and shrinks into herself. I feel like I’ve said the wrong thing, and I have the ridiculous impulse to pull her back into my arms to reassure her that it really is okay. That I’m here, and I won’t let anything bad happen to her.
She darts into the closet before I can do any such stupid thing. She takes less time to pack than I would’ve expected but still comes out with a giant suitcase and a duffel. Then she hurries into the bathroom and comes out with another huge bag.
She shoves the duffel into my arms and then scurries out of the room into the hallway.
“Horror movie rules,” I call as I haul her large duffel over my shoulder and drag the suitcase out of the room.
“I’m just in the hallway,” she says. “I can’t stay in there with that… thing.”
I glance at the bloody mess on the bed. Fair.
As soon as I get in the hall, the light cast from the bedroom highlights her trembling form. She looks so small, clutching her bathroom bag and purse to her chest, and way younger than back in the club.
“Let’s go,” I say, and it comes out gruffer than I mean for it to.
She nods and hurries to the front door. I stay on her heels even though it’s a little difficult hauling her giant suitcase.
She’s still clutching her bags like she needs something to hold on to by the time we get out to the truck, her eyes darting this way and that.
“What do we do now?” Her voice is small. She doesn’t sound anything like the woman who was snapping at me in the truck ride over here.
I drop the suitcase and usher her into the truck, tossing her bags in the back after I’ve gotten her secure. I keep on alert. For all we know, the stalker could still be around, watching us right fucking now.
I jump in the car and pull out of the driveway as soon as I can jam the keys in the ignition.
“You said you changed the locks?” I ask as soon as we’re on the highway.
“The day after I found the pictures on the bed, right after the cleaning crew came.”
“What about the windows?”
“A security expert came in and installed top-of-the-line locks. Key operated, anti-pick, anti-pry, anti-drill.” Her voice is higher-pitched than earlier as she reels off the safety measures. “Everything short of bars on the windows.”
“All right.” I frown. There weren’t any signs of tampering on the front door lock when we entered. Did they somehow make a copy of her new key?
“Where are we going?” Kira’s voice is still small, and I don’t like it.
“A hotel.”
“Somewhere nice?”
“Depends on who’s footing the bill.”
“I’ll pay. It’s not a problem.”
“Then we can go as luxurious as you want. Where would you normally stay or put people up when they visit you?”
“The Ritz.”
“Then not there. Where would you not go but is still up to your standards?”
“Are you mocking me?”
“Would it bring back your spark if I did?”
“The Adolphus?”
I’m watching the highway, but I can hear her frantic breathing. Quick breaths in and out.
“Calm down, Red. You did fine. You’re safe now.”
“Don’t call me Red,” she snaps.
“There she is,” I smirk, hoping she looks my way so she’ll get further pissed off. It does the trick. Her breathing slows as she hisses out a long, frustrated breath at me.
“I can’t believe you’re being an asshole right now.”
“Punch the hotel name into my phone, yeah?”
She takes my phone and puts it in the GPS. We drive in silence for several minutes, but it’s too quiet, and I can hear her breathing speed up again, so I turn on the radio to one of my loud, local country stations.
Her hand immediately flies forward and switches it off.
Almost as soon as she pulls back, I flip it on again.
She makes a furious little noise and reaches out again, but I block her hand. She immediately yanks back as soon as our hands make contact.
“That music is vile.”
“My truck, my rules.”
“This music is awful,” she snaps. “Do you even listen to the lyrics? It intentionally keeps people stuck in their own mindset. It reinforces the culture they grew up with and keeps them complacent against change.”
“Them’s fighting words, woman.”
“Don’t call me woman!”
“Then don’t denigrate my music.”
“Your music.” She huffs out a high-pitched scoff. “Of course, this is your music. You probably haven’t changed your mind about anything, ever.”
“I change my mind all the time.”
She scoffs and reaches forward again, but instead of switching off the music, she just turns it down. “Oh yeah? When was the last time you changed your mind?”