Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Chance opens his mouth, but I’m not interested in hearing any arguments. Not tonight. Roxie looks like she’s barely holding it together, all of us piled together on the floor like marionettes with our strings cut as the cops outside get themselves sorted out for the night.
“We’ll pack the essentials and go,” I say, firmly enough to slice through the noise in everyone’s heads. “I’m freezing in here and it’s been a damn long night. I’m not sleeping in a house full of holes with busted locks and blood on the floor.”
None of them disagree.
One by one, the guys and I get up. Dillon extends a hand toward Roxie and pulls her to her feet.
Faint voices filter in from outside, police officers still doing whatever they do before settling in for the night to keep watch. Chance and I grab the go-bags we packed earlier just in case, and Dillon helps Roxie gather some stuff.
She’s shaking too hard to even remember where she put her prenatal vitamins, but eventually Chance helps her wrap up while Dillon goes to get his own bag. I check the doors that are still in one piece, compiling a list I share with the cops. Then I lock up everything that can be locked while the officers who will stay behind start taping up windows.
“I’m driving,” Chance says when we finally pile into the truck.
I give his bandaged arm a pointed look, but he rolls his eyes and climbs in behind the wheel. Dillon and Roxie get in the back seat, and Dillon monitors the scanner the whole way into town.
Roxie sits pressed against him, small and quiet as she stares out the window like the darkness still has teeth. By the time we reach the only decent hotel in town, I’m one frayed nerve away from carrying her inside caveman-style.
The older lady behind the front desk jumps a little when we walk in, blinking like she’s sure we’re a mirage, but then she clears her throat, slaps on a grin, and stands. “Good evening, folks. It’s a bit late to be checking in, but I’ve got some rooms for you.”
“The suite,” Dillon says immediately. “Please and thank you.”
She blinks a few more times, peering at him over the glasses perched on the end of her nose, but she nods when she realizes he’s serious. “Certainly. You’re lucky I’ve got one available.”
She pushes paperwork across the desk, getting our keys ready while he hastily fills out the forms. The suite she gives us isn’t much, just two double beds, a threadbare couch, and a kitchenette, but it’s clean, warm, and, more importantly, safe.
Safe enough for one night, anyhow. Chance and Dillon crash the second their heads hit the pillows. Roxie is already tucked beneath the covers of the other bed, half-asleep with her hand protectively over her belly.
“I’m gonna grab a shower,” I murmur, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead.
She nods, her eyelids already heavy as I turn and slip into the bathroom. The shower is quick, but I need to wash the blood off my arms. When I towel off and stride back into the room, my heart nearly stops and my feet slam to an abrupt halt as my throat constricts like someone has it in a vise.
Roxie’s bed is empty.
Cold panic claws straight up my spine, an all-consuming, instinct-driven terror. I scan the room in half a heartbeat. Dillon and Chance are still out cold. The door is locked.
Where the hell did she go?
The curtain moves slightly, the faintest ripple that signals the sliding door behind it is open. I exhale hard when I realize it leads to a balcony. I double-time it over there, push the door open a bit farther, and there she is.
Roxie sits wrapped in one of the hotel’s scratchy gray blankets, her legs curled underneath her as she stares out at the quiet town like she’s trying to spot more trouble coming. I grab the other blanket off the bed and drop it around my own shoulders, then walk outside, still wearing nothing more than the towel wrapped around my hips.
“Rox,” I say softly.
She turns at the sound of my voice, her eyes red-rimmed and her cheeks tear-stained. She tries to smile, but the sight of her breaks my heart in half.
I stride to the other chair, sit down, and pull her straight into my lap, wrapping both blankets and my arms around her. She melts into me, her arms slipping around my neck and her forehead pressing into my jaw.
I nuzzle her hair, breathing her in. “Are you okay?”
“No.” She lets out a shuddering breath. “Not really.”
My arms tighten instinctively. “What happened?”
“It was just a lot,” she whispers. “I thought I was ready for whatever would come with Caruso finally making his move, but I could have lost you. Any of you. And it terrified me, Boone.”