Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
I whipped over, dragging my knees to my chest and kicking out with everything in me.
He was too far gone to care about the marks on his shirt.
He was animalistic in his fury.
Well, I could be feral too.
My arm arched upward, feeling around in the dirt as Ben came over me, reaching toward my neck.
To do what?
Suffocate me into unconsciousness, so he could easily carry me away?
Like hell.
His fingers tightened around my throat as my fingers finally found the handle of the screwdriver.
But before I could swing it inward toward Ben’s throat, a shot rang out, loud enough to make me jolt, to make the birds lift from the trees, to make nearby dogs start barking.
A spray of something hot and liquid smeared across my face.
I looked up in horror to see the source.
A hole in the center of Ben’s head.
My stomach lurched, bile rising, as Ben’s body wavered, then fell forward.
I scrambled to the side, a scream caught in my throat, to avoid his weight coming down on me.
I was aware of footsteps.
And I don’t think my brain was firing on all cylinders right then, because I had no idea who to expect.
But it was Kit standing there, a gun held between both outstretched arms.
Her silky black nightgown danced around her in the breeze as she moved to my side.
Her leg shot out, kicking Ben’s body until he rolled onto his back, staring unblinkingly at the night sky.
Kit watched him for one long moment, gaze on his chest, looking for any signs of life.
Satisfied when she didn’t see any, she looked at me instead.
“You okay? Are you hurt?”
“You shot him,” I said, dumbly.
“Slightly less labor-intensive than shoving a screwdriver into his carotid,” she said, giving me a small smile despite the situation.
“He’s dead?” I asked. “You’re sure?”
“He’s not getting up, but if you’d like to shoot him a few more time, for funsies, I can loan you my gun.”
Free—finally, completely—it all came rushing back.
The fear, the struggle, the pain.
My entire body started to shake violently.
“Okay. It’s okay,” Kit cooed at me. “Come on. Let’s get you up, okay?” She reached for my hand before I could stop her and the slightest touch had me crying out in pain. “Fuck. Alright. Here,” she reached toward the other hand instead, slowly pulling until I was sitting upright.
My insides felt like they were rattling around, but I managed to get myself to my feet.
Kit’s arm slid around my waist, silently walking me away from Ben’s body.
“How did you…” I started.
“Edith,” she said, giving me a squeeze. “She came scratching at my door and shrieking like a banshee. I knew something was wrong.”
And she came to rescue me.
She’d killed for me.
We were just nearing the clearing by the houses when the rumbles of motorcycles grew louder and louder.
Headlights cut through the night air.
Then the engine cut, and Nave was running toward me, his face a mix of tension and relief.
“Don’t touch her left wrist,” Kit warned as Nave pulled me against his chest, his arms wrapping me up tight.
“It’s okay,” Nave murmured.
And, finally, it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Nave
Church was just about wrapping up.
Ruin and Croft were already on their phones, texting the club girls. Spike and Cain had probably already rounded up several women at the bar, ready to come back and party.
So it was momentarily completely silent in the clubhouse when my phone’s ring sliced through the air.
I knew.
Somehow, I knew.
It was in the way my hairs all stood up, how my stomach rolled. Even before I saw Kit’s name on the screen.
“Kit, what—”
“Get here,” she cut me off. “Now.”
I heard the sound of her gun cocking before she ended the call.
My fucking blood ran cold.
I was up and on my feet, reaching out for who was closest to me—Dezi—and dragging him with me toward the door.
“What’s going on?” he asked as I charged into a run.
“Something with the girls at the homestead,” I told him as I jumped on my bike. “Something that had Kit cocking a gun.”
I saw the seriousness overtake Dezi’s face for just a second before I peeled off.
It wasn’t a long drive. But the miles felt long with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company.
Despite knowing that Kit had a gun, that she knew how to use it, that she was a good shot, I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she lost the gun, if she got knocked out.
I thought Lolly would be safe there.
I put not only her in danger, but Kit and Ariah. I would have to answer to Lorenzo, Bethany, Tig, and Kenzi if a single hair was out of place on their daughters’ heads.
Fucking Ben.
And it had to be Ben.
Nothing else would make Kit react like that.
We’d been so damn careful.
No cameras. No web footprint. She always had a disguise on in public spaces that had cameras.