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)
He stepped closer, his presence brushing against her like pressure—not touch, just weight. Heat. “Who says I’m going to sit?”
She rolled her eyes, mostly because her mouth wanted to do something stupid, like smile. Or worse yet, lick that rain right off his face. “Come on. I don’t know why you’ve appointed yourself my protection detail.”
“Because you need it.” He shut her door for her. Firm, sure.
Her pulse ticked hard in her throat.
Through the glass, she could still see his face, backlit by the tavern's outside lights. Her gaze dropped, uninvited, to his mouth. He’d kissed her twice, much better than the dreams she’d had about him. Reality was better when it came to Christian Osprey.
Did she want a third kiss?
Yes. But not here. Not with her life still on fire.
She blew out a breath and started the engine. The fan kicked up with a weak wheeze. Dust, and maybe the faint trace of motor oil from somewhere under the dash. Still, it was familiar. “Whatever,” she muttered, more to herself than him.
She pulled onto the road and noted the headlights catching movement behind her. Brock’s truck fell in close. It was entirely possible that Christian hadn’t asked permission to borrow it. Probably hadn’t even said a word. That made her smile before she could stop it.
Not because it was right.
Because it was so him.
She turned on the radio for some background noise. Her mind was already spinning faster than the beat with too many problems stacking on top of each other with no room to breathe.
What was she going to do about Jarod?
She really would give him everything. Just wipe the slate clean and let him win if he’d promise to destroy the video. But no. That wasn’t safe. She’d have to see it be deleted, and she’d need some sort of guarantee that other copies were destroyed, if there were some. She owed that to Flossy, who’d been there her whole life.
Flossy, who had stepped in with grace and kindness after the plane went down and the world flipped inside out. Her parents, both gone, in a single crash right after her eighteenth birthday. It had taken her years to be able to fly again. Years to uncurl her hands from the armrest without shaking.
No wonder Ace couldn’t get up in a plane.
She pressed the gas harder without realizing it and then turned down the river road. The drop was steep and familiar, but not with this much speed. Her headlights caught movement up ahead. A deer. Off to the side.
She tapped the brakes.
Nothing.
She pushed again.
Still nothing.
Oh, God. She couldn’t stop. “Come on,” she whispered, pressing the pedal harder. It sank uselessly.
The car picked up speed, its tires humming louder. The road dropped more sharply ahead into tight turns, no shoulder, and no forgiveness. She could already feel gravity fighting her grip.
Her phone buzzed in the seat next to her. She reached into her purse, fingers fumbling and clicked the screen without looking.
Christian’s voice came through, low and tight. “Slow the hell down. You almost hit a deer.”
“I can’t,” she bit out, her voice sharp as panic careened through her.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
She slammed the brake again, right to the floor. “The brakes aren’t working.”
Silence. A half second. Maybe less. But it sped her panic up higher until her ears heated. “All right. Can you put the car into park? Your seatbelt’s on, isn’t it?”
“Of course my seatbelt’s on.” She grabbed it, yanked it across her chest, and snapped it into place.
“I heard that,” Christian muttered.
She gripped the wheel tighter. The trees blurred past faster than they should have. Her tires caught gravel along the edge and pulled her too close to the shoulder. She jerked the wheel to correct, heart pounding in her throat.
“Christian—” Her voice cracked. She didn’t finish the sentence. The SUV gained speed. The wheel trembled under her grip. Her breath shortened until all she could feel was the weight of the vehicle and the speed and the steep drop ahead. Panic seized her lungs. “What do I do?”
“Put the vehicle in park.”
She shoved the gear lever with all her strength. It didn’t budge. “It won’t go.”
“Okay. Take a deep breath. Just breathe.”
She tried. Inhaled sharply. Her lungs didn’t want to let go of the air. Her heartbeat hammered in her ears. She jerked the wheel left, barely missing a tree, and her tires skidded sideways. “I’m going faster,” she whispered.
“It’s okay,” Christian said calmly. Too calmly. “Twist the keys. See if you can take the key out.”
Hope lit her. Her fingers scrambled for the ignition. Slipped. Scraped the metal. Blood slicked her skin and her eyes blurred. “Oh God. It’s not working.”
“Stay calm, baby,” he said. “You’re going to have to go uphill soon, but you’ve got two quick turns first.”
“I know.” She barely got the words out. Her throat was too dry. If she could just get uphill, maybe, but then what? She’d have to come down again. “I don’t know what to do.”