Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Sex is still a possibility.” Cormac doesn’t look at me, but he’s smiling as he glides the car to a stop in front of a nondescript apartment building. The area is a little corner with a few shops with offices above them. Families walk down the street, an older couple pushing a stroller, probably with their grandchild in it.
“What are we doing here?”
“I wanted to do something nice for you.” He leans over and kisses me lightly. “Since you were good with my parents.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that. Your mother makes it easy. Although your father—”
He waves that off. “My father is an old prick. He’ll come around. Don’t worry about him.”
“I got the feeling your mom’s the one I should be focusing on anyway.”
“That means you’re a very smart girl.” He smirks as he nods toward the apartment building. “Now let’s go upstairs and enjoy ourselves, shall we?”
My stomach does a little nervous twist as Cormac gets out of the car. I quickly follow after him. “What’s here?”
“A place I rented recently. Turns out the landlord of this building loves money more than he loves asking questions.” He buzzes us through the front door and into a lobby with sticky floors and rusty mailboxes. The stairs look like they’re vaguely safe as we take them to the second floor. The smell of cooking and the soft sound of music floats from the different units.
“Right, but why did you rent an apartment here?” I hesitate, frowning at the rusty, beat-up doors. “I mean, it’s not the best place in the world.”
“Oh, no, it’s actually perfect.” We keep going up and up to the fourth floor. I’m a little out of breath by the time we reach number 407. “You’re going to love it. Trust me.” He unlocks the door and we step inside.
The place is totally empty.
There’s nothing in the dingy kitchen. Nothing in the cramped bathroom. Nothing in the living room either. No furniture, no sign of life at all. I stare around me before frowning at him.
“Are you trying to get me to move out or something? What’s happening right now?”
He stares at me in surprise. “I would never.”
“This is weird, Cormac. Even for you. I thought we were going on a date?”
“We are.” He comes over and pulls me against him. His lips brush mine, and he lets out a starved little growl. “I’m not explaining myself right as usual.”
“Slow down.” I kiss him and hold his face close to mine. “Just tell me why we’re here.”
“I’ll show you.” He takes my hand and leads me down a short hallway toward the bedrooms.
“So this is a sex thing?” I ask, not sure what I’m about to find through that door.
“Better,” he whispers, gesturing in at the craziest little setup I’ve ever seen in my life.
There’s a single folding chair. A milk crate with a laptop. And the most advanced sniper rifle set up at the window, aiming through a set of simple white blinds.
No bed. No furniture at all.
Just a gun.
“Cormac,” I say as he strides over and sits down. He peers in through the rifle’s scope, grinning like he just found buried treasure.
“Come here and take a look.”
“Are you about to show me something terrible?”
“You’ll like it.” He holds out a hand, totally sincere. “I promise.”
I hesitate, but eventually I go to him. Everything’s been so fucked up and weird lately, so why not go with this? He pulls me into his lap and helps me lean down to look through the scope. I have to adjust myself, squinting, not sure what I’m seeing—
Until a window appears. It must be somewhere across the street. “What am I seeing?”
“You’re angry, feather,” he whispers, lips tickling my neck. He kisses me, hands exploring my body as I stare at the room. There’s a desk. A computer. Pictures hanging on the walls. “You want to hurt them, don’t you?”
“For killing Elena,” I say, my heart rate suddenly doubling as a person steps into view.
“I can give you revenge if that’s what you want. I can give you anything you need, feather. We can cut their throats and burn them to ashes. We can make them hurt together.”
“Cormac,” I whimper. His hand slowly slips down the front of my jeans. His fingers curl around my mound, stroking along my pussy as I stare at Taras Morozov through the scope of a rifle.
“You hold his life in your hands now.” He kisses my neck, teasing my pussy. Pleasure, terror, horror, and hate all bleed together in a wild, heady mix. “Go ahead, touch the trigger.”
“I thought… you needed him…” I bite back against a moan.
He takes my hand and guides it to the gun. It’s surprisingly cold and solid. Real metal, a real weapon. Made for killing and nothing else.