Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 134073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 670(@200wpm)___ 536(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
“Okay, Daddy,” she mumbles, and I feel something sting my eyes.
What the fuck? I reach up and there’s water on my face. How the fuck did that happen? There’s no rain.
I drive for what feels like enough time that we can make a clean getaway. There’s a diner with a long-haul trucker park up ahead and a used car lot next to it. Perfect.
It takes me all of ten minutes to find us a new car, get Iris settled in the passenger seat, and pull out onto the highway. I even grabbed us some food in the process and made sure Iris had lots of water. She’s got to flush that shit out of her system, but I don’t know how much actually got in her.
Worry eats at me that I wasn’t able to keep her safe, and now I don’t know if I’ll be able to fulfill my duty the rest of the way. Not having much of a choice, I take out one of the burner phones in my bag and dial the number I memorized when we were kids.
“If you’re calling me, there must be a problem,” the voice says on the other end.
“I need a favor, Sergio.” There’s a long pause, and I can almost picture him waiting to see what I’m about to say. “I need safe passage to Germany.”
“Done,” he says, agreeing without question.
“I’ll be at your safehouse in about three hours,” is all I say before ending the call and throwing the burner cell out the car window.
Chapter Eleven
IRIS
My eyes are heavy as I try to open them, but for some reason they aren’t cooperating. I hear the sounds of someone pacing, and it never seems to stop. Panic rises inside of me as the memories come rushing back. I’d been injected with something, and the whole world had gone black in the blink of an eye.
My heart starts to pound at the fear of where I am and who is with me. This is all so freaking crazy. Why would my parents send someone to drug me? A tear slips free at the thought of not having someone on my side to take care of me. The feeling of being lost and alone is overwhelming, but then the image of Dutch appears in my mind. I need him. What if something happened to him too?
A whimper forms in my throat as my body finally catches up.
“Little bit.” Warm hands cup my face, and it’s Dutch’s voice, gentle and soothing. Relief fills me knowing he’s here, and I don’t want to think about how I tried to get away from him in the beginning. “You’re crying.” He wipes away the tear that escaped. “Damn it, Iris, open your eyes.”
His tone changes as he issues the command. It's gruff and demanding, and the need to please him has my eyes doing exactly what he says. There’s also a tingle between my thighs at the sound of his order. How the heck can his voice do that to me?
“Thank fuck,” he says with relief as he leans down and presses his mouth hard against mine. “You scared the shit out of me, little bit.”
I can see the fear in his eyes, and I hate that it’s there. Reaching up, I brush my fingers along his jaw, needing that connection more than I realized. The rough stubble against my fingers feels nice and reminds me that he’s here and he’s real. He hadn’t let anyone take me from him, and the safety in that warms me from the inside out.
“You saved me.” It’s not a question, because looking at him now, there’s no doubt he was my hero.
“Always.” He kisses me again, and this time I don’t want him to take his mouth off of me. My heart starts to pound for a whole other reason as I cling to him.
He pushes his tongue past my lips, claiming this kiss for himself. This one is different from all the others. He’s still got his hands on my face in a gentle hold, and although it’s sweet, I swear he’s trying to remind both of us that I still belong to him.
“Dutch.” I breathe his name.
“I’m right here, little bit, and I’m not going anywhere.” I realize I’m lying on a sofa at the safe house as Dutch picks me up. He sets me on a table nearby and turns on a light. I glance around the room that looks like it’s stuck in the 1980s.
“Where am I?”
“With me.” He smirks, making me snort a laugh. “Fuck, I love that sound.”
He drops his forehead to mine, and I feel a need to soothe him. I run my hands up and down his back. I want to do all I can to reassure him that I’m okay. Well, at least physically I am.