Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Amka’s mouth opened and then closed. She could feel the dried blood on her upper lip from falling on her nose. “No. Definitely not.”
“I don’t know.” Helene looked down at her hands. “I guess it could be an offering.” Her shoulders hunched.
“Did you try to blackmail me?”
Helene wiped her nose on her sleeve. “Yeah, I left both notes for you. The first one about the explosion and fire was so Jarod didn’t get pissed. He didn’t know I’d rigged that to kill you. He wasn’t ready to kill you, but I was, so I learned how to create the device from an internet video. The weird note got Jarod off my back. Well, at least he wasn’t sure I’d done it. I’m a good liar.”
Amka thought about who could’ve been hurt. What a horrible woman. “How long have you been in town, anyway?”
“A few weeks. I’ve been staying here. Well, until I officially showed up, and then I did get a room at Flossy’s.”
Amka needed to find that gun. “You left the blackmail note after Jarod disappeared?”
“Of course.” Helene preened. “The note was a wake-up call for my man. I figured it would get him mad and he’d try to find me. I just don’t understand why he’s left me. It doesn’t make sense.”
The woman was unraveling. Amka had to move and now.
She took a breath that barely made it past the pressure in her chest and twisted, leaping up and slamming the side of the chair against the wall. Wood splintered. Pain shot up her arms as the impact jarred every bone from elbow to spine. The chair didn’t break. Not yet.
Helene frowned. “That was stupid. You’re just going to hurt yourself.”
Amka did it again. Harder.
The backrest cracked. Her shoulder burned white-hot. She gritted her teeth and threw herself against the wall one more time. The chair exploded behind her. Jagged legs snapped, and she hit the floor in a tangle of broken wood and rope. Her wrists were still bound, but the chair was gone.
Helene shrieked and dove for the bag by the suitcase.
“No—” Amka tried to crawl, but her right leg buckled under her, the thigh muscle seizing from the fall.
Helene ripped a gun out of the bag.
“Don’t,” Amka gasped, her voice shredded.
Helene turned, weapon in both hands now, her eyes wild. “You think you can just take everything from me?” she panted. “You think you matter more?”
Amka scrambled forward. Her wrists howled in pain. She got her knees under her and lunged out of pure instinct and desperation.
Helene fired.
The shot cracked into the wall, wood dust raining down.
Amka slammed into her. The two women hit the floor in a heap, and the gun slid across the fake wooden floor to hit the front door. Amka tried to twist her hands free of the rope, Helene clawing at her face.
“You ruined everything!” Helene screamed.
Amka drove her shoulder into Helene’s gut. The woman grunted and elbowed Amka hard in the jaw. Lights burst behind her eyes.
They rolled.
Helene landed on top, fists raining down. Amka raised her arms, still bound, trying to deflect the blows. She caught a punch across the cheekbone, and the world tilted.
She fought through it, leaning up to slam her forehead into Helene’s nose.
Helene howled, blood pouring from her nostrils. She recoiled just enough.
Amka bucked hard, shoving her off.
They both scrambled for the gun, and Helene got there first. She grabbed it and turned, already firing.
The gun kicked in Helene’s hand, the sound tearing through Amka’s skull. She flinched, breath caught in her throat, waiting for the impact—
It never came.
The front door exploded inward.
Christian.
He didn’t pause. Didn’t shout. Just moved, fast and precise and kicked the gun out of Helene’s hand. Tika hit the woman, snarling, his massive body slamming into her side. She screamed and went down hard with the wolf-pup pouncing on top of her chest, his teeth bared.
Amka pushed herself upright, breath scraping raw in her throat. Her cheek stung. Her wrists burned. Everything inside her shook, but she was still here. Still breathing. Her hands were still tied, but she dragged herself back, wedging into the space between the ratty couch and the coffee table. “Christian?” He was standing? There? How?
Tires shrieked outside. More boots. More noise. It barely registered.
Christian reached her, crouching. “Amka? Talk to me.”
Even now, he was giving orders.
Brock stormed in, gun drawn, eyes wild. “Clear?”
Christian didn’t look up. “Got her,” he said, voice all steel.
Brock’s gaze swept the room, locking on Amka for a half second. His jaw ticked. He didn’t speak again, just moved toward Helene.
Damian slid in behind him, along with Ace.
Amka finally sagged, her body trying to melt into the floor. “How did you find me?” Her shoulders ached from where Helene had sat on her, and the rope at her wrists had rubbed her raw.