Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
He bent forward, pulling the knife toward him. I had made a big deal of always playing with it in front of him, making him think it was special to me. It was a piece of shit—a prop—but he didn’t know that. I only wanted to distract him.
“Do you think that’s what I want?” he murmured, running his fingers over the handle of the knife.
I sighed, trying to sound bored. “I don’t know what you want, Orson.”
He stood. “I want to show you my new trophy.”
I clenched my hands tight at my sides. I didn’t want to see his damned trophy. I wanted to know where Skylar was.
He walked over to the door, my knife still in his hand. Rex stood stoic, a silent sentinel in the corner, his expression blank.
Orson pushed open the door, indicating I should follow.
What I saw caused me to stop, clutching the doorframe hard.
Skylar—curled in a defensive ball against the wall, clutching her knapsack so hard her knuckles were white. Bruises covered one side of her face, and her lip was split. Her red-rimmed eyes were wide with fear as she stared at me.
My knees almost sagged, but somehow, I remained upright. I met her frightened gaze with what I hoped was a look of reassurance, the whole time my thoughts frantic.
How the fuck did he get her? Why was she here?
It took everything in me not to lunge forward and drag her into my arms. Instead, I turned and glared at Orson. “What the fuck are you trying to prove?”
He laughed, the sound low and menacing in his throat. Rex was suddenly beside me, his gun digging into my side. Orson pushed past me, walking over to Skylar, dragging her to her feet, and holding the knife—my knife—to her throat. I was frozen with fear, desperately trying to reassure her with my eyes everything was going to be okay.
Her eyes said what my brain knew. I was lying.
“Who is she, Anthony?” Orson sneered. “It didn’t take you long to get a new play toy after dumping the warehouse girl, did it?”
I blinked. Rex knew who she was. He’d seen her at the warehouse. Why wouldn’t he have told Orson? Blown my cover?
My mind started to race with possibilities.
I looked at Skylar, my brow furrowed. Her head moved—barely a flicker, but I saw it.
I breathed out Sean’s name, covering it up as a heavy sigh. I needed him now.
She hadn’t said anything—neither had Rex. It could only mean one thing.
I sighed, shaking my head slowly, indicating Orson had it all wrong. “Who said she was new?”
“Why were you hiding her?”
I shrugged. “Who I fuck isn’t your concern, Orson. Now you’re just wasting my fucking time and pissing me off. Let her go, and then I’ll deal with this shit.”
He tightened his grip on her. “No.”
I glared at him. “You bruised her.”
Orson flicked his hand dismissively. “I was trying to loosen her tongue.”
I curled my fingers into fists, trying to rein in my fury until I could figure out my next step. “I don’t like my possessions touched.”
“Who. Is. She.”
Where the hell was Sean?
I needed time. I had to get her away from him; I had to give Sean a chance to get here. I tried bluffing. “She’s no one, Orson. A body—a mouth—a vessel I can use, but nonetheless, she is still mine. But hardly what I would call your greatest trophy.”
“I disagree. She must mean something to the powerful Anthony Malone for you to keep her a secret.”
“She’s a means to an end.” I shrugged again and flicked my hand toward Skylar. “I just happen to like her means.” Ignoring the gun pressing into my side, I narrowed my eyes at Orson. “How did you find her?”
“It’s a small world, Anthony. Imagine my shock when one of my men saw you miles away from the strip club, buying soup. How clever you are, figuring out your gifts were trackable and leaving them behind, thinking I would never know. Of course, not clever enough. Larry followed you.” Orson smiled menacingly. “I sent Rex to pick her up. She wasn’t very happy to see him.”
I knew she would remember who Rex was. She would never have gone anywhere with him—unless he wasn’t a threat to her.
Unless she knew he wasn’t a threat to me. Somehow, in the scheme of everything, I had overlooked something. I knew it now—Rex was the other mole.
I drew in a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. As much as I wanted to rush forward and get her away from him, I knew I had to be smarter—remain cool and figure out how to beat him. “This is one trophy you can’t have, Orson. When I’m done with her, it’s my decision what happens to her, not yours.”
“I don’t think so.” His voice became ominous.