Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“You fucking bitch,” he snarled.
He kicked out, sending me flying backward, but I held onto that knife like the lifeline it was.
Something stabbed me in the back and thigh as I landed and I scuttled backward, making it bite into me more as Sonny loomed over me.
He bent forward.
And I just… stabbed and stabbed.
Into his calf. Leg. Thigh.
It was the thigh that did it.
As soon as I yanked the knife back out, the spray jetted, splashing across my face, my chest, my arms.
I reached up, wiping my face. But the spray just kept coming.
Then Sonny stumbled, dropped.
When my gaze moved up to his face, he was ghost-pale, wide-eyed, and slack-jawed.
He reached down, pressing his hands hard into his thigh as I scrambled backward.
The blood wasn’t spraying, not anymore. But it was still pouring out of his leg way, way too fast.
I watched as Sonny’s head wobbled as he dropped onto his ass. Then saw him fall sideways into the rock wall, not even reacting to the rock that his face rammed into.
My heart had taken up residence in my mouth. I was gagging on it, and the scent of copper that filled the crevice we were nestled in.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t even think.
All I could do was stare at Sonny’s lifeless body.
His whole body was slack.
His breath was weird. It went from fast, frantic, to slow and deep, and, finally, to these weird gasping sounds.
I needed to call the police.
Get him an ambulance.
But I couldn’t unfreeze my body.
Then… there was no more gasping.
No more breath at all.
He was dead.
That seemed to pierce the bubble I was stuck in. I gasped for air as I jumped to my feet.
But instead of moving back, I stepped forward, grabbing a rock as I went, just in case.
I kicked Sonny’s leg. Once. Twice. Three times.
Nothing.
I don’t know how long I stood there staring down at him.
But eventually, I seemed to decide he couldn’t hurt me again. Then I turned and walked back to the house.
I honestly wasn’t even conscious of the climb, the descent, the sights or sounds.
All I could think was that I needed to get back to the house.
I needed to get to York.
Then, like I conjured him, he came flying out the back door of the house and toward me.
And I knew it was going to be okay.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
York
“Where is all this coming from?” I asked, panic surging up the back of my throat, making my breath catch and my chest tighten as I looked her over. “Runa, come on, babe. Talk to me. Where are you hurt?”
“It’s not mine.” Her voice sounded slow and robotic.
“It’s not yours? You’re sure?”
“Sonny…”
“He’s who hired the hitmen.”
“Yes.” God, she was so detached, in shock.
“Did he hurt you?”
“He killed them,” she said, looking at, but through me. “All of them. He killed them.”
“I know. I know, baby. This is his blood? Where is he? Is he coming?”
She gave me a short shake of her head.
“Okay. I’m going to need to go double-check that.”
Another nod.
“But I’m going to get you upstairs first.”
With that, I lowered down, pulled off her shoes, and led her inside and upstairs.
I led her into her old bedroom, then through to the en suite bathroom to strip her down and push her into the shower.
The water ran red for a long moment before it dulled to pink, then nothing.
“Listen to me, babe. I need you to wash yourself, okay? Body, hair, under your nails. Every nook and cranny. Then when you think you’re done, do it all over again. Then again. Three times, okay?”
“Okay.” She reached numbly for the soap.
I didn’t want to leave her.
But the last thing in the world we needed was a half-dead Sonny crawling for help.
This ended now.
I gathered the clothes, pausing only to tell Denali everything was okay, but that I needed her to stay in her room for a few more minutes. Then I stopped to throw the clothes in the wash with half a bottle of bleach before rushing back in the direction she’d come from.
I nearly fell on my ass several times with the uneven terrain. But then I saw it.
A pickup truck.
I ran that way, the gun heavy in my hand.
But Runa was right.
Sonny was dead.
“Fuck,” I said, sighing.
Alright.
Crisis mode.
I reached for my phone, calling Huck and filling him in.
“Call Slash,” Huck demanded. “You need reinforcements. Shady Valley is a lot closer by plane.”
“I’m not leaving a body here that long. I have no fucking idea what kind of staff might be coming by or who might be missing him at home. I’m not having evidence pointing back here.”
“Okay. You get that started. I will call Slash. Make sure your phone pings nowhere but that house.”
“Used to do this for a living,” I reminded him. “I’m going to leave my phone with Runa. If you need to talk to someone, you’ll have her until I fix this.”