Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
My gut twisted with unease as I slowed the car as we approached an older brick apartment building and I slid into a vacant spot between two beat-up, unkempt cars. The exterior of where Stevie lived wasn’t well maintained, nor was the general neighborhood. The area was run-down, the buildings and homes neglected and weathered.
As soon as I parked, she started to open her door to get out. “Thank you for the ride—”
I caught her wrist to stop her before she could take off, and she glanced at me in surprise.
“I’m not just dropping you off,” I insisted, my tone as stern as my stare. “I’ll walk you to your apartment.”
She had the audacity to roll her eyes at me. “For crying out loud, Caleb, I’ve lived here for three years. I know it’s not the greatest neighborhood, but it’s broad daylight and I’ll be fine. It’s better than when I arrive home after a night shift at the bar, but that’s why I carry pepper spray.”
My jaw clenched. Her alone and vulnerable at night wasn’t something I wanted to consider. “There isn’t even a security door leading into the complex to keep anyone out,” I said, then scowled, my defenses flaring as I watched a group of twenty-something-year-old men walk out from the park next to her complex, a breeding ground for crime and drug deals.
“I’m walking you to your door,” I all but growled.
She arched a brow, giving me a bit of attitude. “Are you sure you want to leave your fancy sports car parked out here, unattended?”
She had a point. My Audi stuck out like a sore thumb, along with a black BMW parked a few car lengths ahead of us. And those guys who’d just exited the park were eyeing the R8 like it was theirs for the taking, but I didn’t give a shit. Stevie’s welfare was far more important. A car was replaceable. Stevie was not.
“I’ll take my chances,” I said, meaning it as I released her wrist. “That’s what insurance is for.”
“Fine.”
She huffed out an annoyed sigh I would have found amusing if I wasn’t so on edge about where she lived. Which on some level I recognized as ridiculous considering she’d resided here for three years, without incident. It didn’t matter. One night with Stevie and my protective instincts toward her were on overdrive.
We got out of the car and I met up with her on the cracked and uneven sidewalk. We started toward the brick building, with me glaring at the men who were eyeing Stevie in her sexy dress and heels from last night, despite me being with her. Oblivious to those leers, she absently glanced over at the black BMW parked at the curb up ahead and abruptly stopped walking, her posture stiff and her expression startled. She must not have seen the car when we’d driven up, because she was now staring at it with a look of trepidation.
I stopped beside Stevie, her troubled reaction confusing me. “Is everything okay?”
Before she could answer, the vehicle flipped a quick U-turn and sped away in the opposite direction.
She glanced at me, her unease palpable. “I’m pretty sure that was Mark’s car.”
“Mark?” I asked, trying to follow her explanation.
“Valerie’s ex,” she said, reminding me of the conversation we’d had last night at the party, of the abusive relationship her sister had just gotten out of.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Ninety-nine percent. He drives a black BMW, and just like your car, there aren’t a lot of sports cars like that around here,” she said, and then her eyes flared with fear. “Shit, if that was Mark I need to check on my sister and make sure she’s okay.”
She turned toward the apartment building and all but ran up the sidewalk leading to the entrance. My long strides kept me by her side.
“I thought you said there was a restraining order against him,” I said, as we entered the complex. There was no lobby, no security or safeguards in place whatsoever to protect the residents, and definitely no amenities. Just a bank of metal mailboxes, an elevator with an “out of order” sign posted on the doors, and a flight of stairs straight ahead.
She scoffed as she rushed up the first set of steps. “Like that would keep an egomaniac like Mark away from Valerie.”
I couldn’t argue with her logic which was fueling her anxiety, and since I had no idea where her apartment was, I could only follow her up two flights of stairs to a third story. Out of breath, she dug through her purse as we hurried down a hallway, and when she reached her place she used a key to unlock the door.
She burst inside, leaving the door open for me to come in, too. “Valerie!” she yelled in a panic when an initial sweep of the very miniscule living room and kitchenette showed no signs of her sister.