Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 825(@200wpm)___ 660(@250wpm)___ 550(@300wpm)
I have no idea where Callum will start his night, but he’ll end it in a bedroom. Sliding down another stairwell, Liv and I tuck ourselves in a room, just inside the doorway. Iron stands across the narrow passage, inside another room.
Catching my breath, I remain still, not hearing a peep. Not a step.
I grind my thumb against the pads of my fingers, hearing the squeak of the rubber gloves. I’m not really worried about fingerprints. Callum’s a pussy if that’s how he wants to beat me.
But one of Macon’s young protégés has gotten excellent at homemade chloroform. He decided to keep some on hand, just in case. We’ve only used it twice, to my knowledge. Getting a runaway who’d fallen in with a bad crowd back home to the Bay at his parents’ request and subduing a drunk tourist who we didn’t want to bruise up. The gloves protect our hands in case we accidentally touch ourselves after we’ve come into contact with it.
“Grab his new boyfriend,” I tell my brother and sister in a quiet voice. “Dump him at Fox Hill.”
They nod just as the floor creaks overhead. All of us tip our eyes to the ceiling.
The floor above us whines again.
I lock eyes with Iron. Someone is walking around the main deck.
“Is that them?” Iron asks.
Peering around the corner, I wait for someone’s legs to appear on the stairs.
“We should’ve brought Army and Trace,” Liv scolds.
“No time.” I look at her over my shoulder. “Iron and I are on. Are you?”
She hoods her eyes, annoyed. “Yes.”
Quiet footfalls continue to move over our heads. We called Army and let him know what was going down and to come looking if he didn’t hear from us in a couple of hours. We hung up before he could stop us. He’s working anyway. So’s Trace.
“You remember the headlock?” I bite out at her.
She glares at me, baring her teeth. “Yes.”
The youngest and the only girl out of six, she’d better know how to wrestle.
A footstep echoes that sounds like it’s getting closer to us. Slipping to the edge of the doorframe, I see work boots descending the stairs.
My heart beats in my throat.
I glance at Iron, pressing my finger to my mouth. “Shhh…”
Once the man comes into view, his shoes and jeans are immediately familiar to me. By the time I can make out his gray T-shirt with permanent grease stains, I relax.
Stepping into the hallway, I come face-to-face with Macon, but he quickly gestures for me to be quiet. Pointing to the ceiling, he listens for more footsteps.
Callum is here.
Liv and Iron slip out of the rooms, Macon scowling at all of us.
“What are you doing here?” I mouth.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he growls a whisper, pointing to our sister.
I refrain from rolling my eyes. He wants one Jaeger to not have to worry about other people’s problems. To pursue their own happiness, free from other concerns.
Even though my sister is perfectly capable of getting her hands dirty.
To my surprise, she stands up to him. “Just try taking me home,” she dares him.
We hear the noise of multiple people moving around up in the kitchen, more than one set of shoes walking back and forth.
Stepping around Macon, I creep up the stairs. Rip or Tyson must’ve reported to him.
“You’re not going back to prison,” I hear him warn Iron.
“I know,” Iron replies.
They follow me, and I hold my hand out. “Stay back.”
Rising up just enough, I peek through the railings, stretching as far as I can to the right, to catch a view of the kitchen. Callum sits on a bar stool at the island, dressed in black pants and a white button-down that’s not buttoned. Hair a mess, barefoot, and smiling…My stomach sinks at how gorgeous he is when he’s…happy.
He’s driving me crazy.
His new boyfriend puts something in the fridge and passes him a bottle. “Open the wine?”
Callum considers it but puts the wine down, uncorking a bottle of tequila instead and pouring two shots.
They exchange soft, lingering smiles, their fucking gazes loaded with something that’s pissing me off. As they tip back the shots, their gazes meet and hold. I swallow. I should’ve brought a weapon.
“You hungry?” the guy asks.
“After,” Callum replies.
I narrow my eyes. After…
The heat of my siblings’ eyes on my back starts to burn, but I want him to come down to the bedrooms. I want to see him try.
The older man circles the island, Callum spinning around on his stool to meet him. Callum hangs his elbows on the island behind him, the other guy planting his hands on the counter next to Callum’s arms.
Leaning down to Callum’s mouth, the older man smiles. “Goddamn.”
He takes Callum’s face in one hand, his thumb running over his mouth.
“You are very pretty,” he coos. “And I wanted my hands all over you the second I looked at you.”