Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 363(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
Angry, or… aroused?
“I’m not stupid,” she protests.
“I never said you were.”
“And yet you insist on treating me as if I am.”
I shake my head. “Not true. I never said you were stupid, and I wouldn’t think that.”
Jesus, I think she’s brilliant.
“Then why would you think I’d do something that put me in danger? You’re talking as if I have no concept of self-preservation. It’s why I came here.”
I draw in a breath and let it out slowly. Patience isn’t really my thing.
“Because you’ve never been where we’re going. You don’t know the people we’re dealing with.”
I can feel her breath on my skin. We’re too close. Too close.
“And you do?” she snaps.
“Yes. And there are a few things I know. First, the people who committed this murder aren’t the type to let this go. They will follow you. They already have a search party out, and they won’t let this go until they find you.”
She licks her lips and nods. I stifle a groan.
Why does she lick her lips? God!
“Second. If you report them, their leader goes to jail. There will be trials and interviews and you’ll be in a spotlight. It’s very much in their interest to make sure you don’t repeat what you saw, and they’ll find the most expedient way possible to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Alright.” Her voice trembles.
“We’re going to a place that’s not found on any map. You’ll be safe there.”
She eyes me warily. “Does your mother know about this?”
Why does she insist on bringing my mother into the situation?
“No.”
She gives me a look of disapproval I ignore.
“We’re driving to the airport. We’re flying to an undisclosed location. For parts of this, you’ll be blindfolded.” She slow-blinks. “We’ll discuss more on our flight, but we leave now. We’re walking out that door to a ride that’s waiting for us. And if you do anything other than walk out that door with me, I will pick you up and carry you out bodily.” I let out a breath. “Don’t make me do that, Savannah.”
I don’t give her time to protest, talk, or ask questions. I walk briskly to the door, taking her along with me. “I’m only going because your mother told me you’d keep me safe,” she says, as if to make it very clear that there’s no way in hell she’d do this of her own accord.
“Then why didn’t you go to the police? Why did you come here?”
She has no answer for that.
I know exactly why she came here. The police can’t offer the type of protection I can.
The police are bound by laws.
Lyam hands me a bag with a wig he probably got from Fabien’s expansive collection. We’ll have to cut and dye her hair—the most distinguishing characteristic she has—but for now, the wig will do.
“You ever worn a wig before?”
She makes a sound of disgust. “No.”
“Stand still, then. It might get itchy, but you’ll only wear this until we can change your hair color more effectively.”
I pull her against my chest and make short work of tucking the silky strands of pink under the wig. That quickly, Savannah becomes a brunette with full, straight brown hair that graces her shoulders.
It looks amazing on her. Jesus. Everything does. I could make her bald, and she’d still make me ache for her.
When we exit the house, Mario and Lyam flank our sides, weapons drawn. She takes in an audible breath at the flash of gunmetal gray on either side.
I draw my own weapon as well.
As one unit, we walk to the car, our steps in sync. In silence.
Even Savannah stays quiet and walks quickly to the armored car idling by the curb.
I open the door and gesture for her to go in first, then slide in beside her. Lyam takes the driver’s seat and Mario goes to sit in the passenger seat.
“Maman’s secure,” Lyam says as he puts the car in drive and begins to head toward the airport. “We’ve called for heightened security measures.”
I nod.
“Lyam, did you alert her team?”
“I did.”
It’s a somber ride, but a fast one. We’re close enough we could walk but it’s safer to drive.
“I didn’t pack anything,” Savannah says. She turns away from me, and I wonder why. Even from here I can see a lone tear roll down her cheek.
It’s been a long night for her.
“We’ll get what you need.”
She nods.
“What about my apartment?” She turns to me, not bothering to hide the tears on her cheeks. “I have a fish, Thayer.”
Fish. Her life is in danger, and she’s worried about her fish.
“I’ll make sure it’s fed,” I say with practiced patience.
She looks back out the window. “Alright.”
We make it to the airport, surrounded by security. Armored cars follow behind, flank each side, and ride ahead of us as well.
“Where are we going?
“I can’t tell you that.”