Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
What the hell is this? Most women search their whole lives to find a man who can put it down like they can, and when they do, they lock it down. Or trap them with babies. And here I am, finding two of them within a day of each other. That just doesn’t happen.
If it comes down to having to choose, obviously I would have to pick the non-murderous one, right? Seems like the sane choice. But breaking the psychopath’s heart also doesn’t seem like a good idea. Hell, letting the psycho killer fuck me in the first place wasn’t my finest moment, but how could I have resisted that?
You know what else wasn’t my brightest idea . . .
My gaze drops to the unconscious body on the floor of my apartment. Shit.
Said psycho killer lies at my feet, out cold, and I let out a sigh.
What the hell was I thinking? Don’t get me wrong, knocking the fucker out was a lot of fun, but what now? I didn’t think this through. But there’s no denying that I have questions. So many questions, a lot revolving around Maddox and if he happens to know that his apparent bestie is a hitman. So, when an opportunity presents itself as flawlessly as this had, who am I to ignore that?
This is going to take a lot of effort. Though to be fair, I spend my days hauling heavy boxes of alcohol across my bar. That kind of training has to be good for something, right?
I let out a breath.
Hunter thoroughly rocked my world, and I don’t exactly have the energy for a full-body workout, but I have no choice now. I reach down and grab the fucker’s ankle.
I pull hard, and he slides along my hardwood floors like melted butter, and I pause as a stupid grin stretches across my face. Maybe this isn’t going to be as hard as I thought. I could use him as a human vacuum. Just push him all around my apartment, collecting shit along the way. Though that little head injury isn’t going to last long. I need to get him secured before he gets the chance to wake up and overpower me.
Propping my door open with my ass, I haul Hunter out into the hallway and attempt to take the sharp left toward his apartment. The sound of his head smacking into the side of my doorframe makes me pause and look up.
“Oops, sorry ’bout that,” I say with a muffled grunt as I try to maneuver him around the corner without inflicting any more damage. But let’s face it, this particular psycho killer is waking up with one hell of a pounding headache.
It takes a few minutes before I have Hunter in his own apartment, and as the door closes behind me, I push the dead bolt into place. This is already as fucked up as it can get. I don’t need anybody coming in here and playing witness, especially not Maddox. Assuming they are actually friends and Hunter wasn’t just here to murder the guy I’ve been kinda seeing. Who knows when it comes to Hunter Cole, but one thing is for sure, I’m going to find out.
Abandoning him in his living room, I take a quick look around and try to put some sort of plan in place. I grab one of the chairs from his dining table and drag it into the center of the apartment.
Then after rifling through his drawers and closets, I find what I’m looking for and turn my attention back to Hunter.
This is where the hard part starts, and it isn’t going to be pretty.
I start with his body, scooping my elbows under his muscled arms and hauling him up into the chair, taking it inch by inch. I get him halfway seated before crumbling back to the ground like a wet spaghetti noodle.
I start to break out in a sweat. There’s got to be an easier way.
I try the legs first, even try dragging him by the head, but when all else fails, I go back to my original plan.
Getting him seated on the ground, I drop down behind him in a low crouch, half straddled around his back as I clutch my arms around his wide chest, and with every last ounce of energy I possess, I haul his giant ass up onto the chair, only to end up squished in behind him. But at least that firm ass of his is planted on the chair.
It’s a bitch of a job, but I get it done, and the moment I steady him on the chair, I start pulling myself out from behind him. Once my feet are planted on the ground, I scoop up the dark gray duct tape I found in his kitchen.
A stupid grin stretches across my face, and like the perfect little maniac, I start humming Another One Bites The Dust by Queen while I tape the fucker to the chair, making sure he’s not going anywhere. I use my teeth to rip the tape and secure Hunter in place.