Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
He watches the comings and goings of the building closely, and a cold feeling sinks into my bones when he straightens at the sight of me, but somehow, I don’t think he’s a fan.
No, that’s deep-seated hatred pinning my feet in place.
I’m so stunned by the look in his eyes, searching frantically for the word to define it, that I don’t notice the gun until it’s too late.
The sun glints off the metal, drawing my eye, and then there’s no time for me to react before I see the spark flash from the muzzle and hear the gunshot followed by a glass window shattering behind me. There’s screaming and shouting, but I all I can think to do is throw my arms over my head and spin away to protect my baby from the flying glass. The second shot comes too quickly before I can run for cover, and it hits the ground by my feet. A moment later, I’m thrown to the ground and a body covers mine protectively. The shooting eventually stops, but I’m stuck inside my head as chaos erupts around me.
Grief.
That’s how I would define the pain in the man’s eyes.
SHOTS FIRED—GRIEVING MAN SEEKS REVENGE AGAINST AURELIA GEORGE OVER DEAD FIANCÉE
6 mins ago
By Rachel W. | Pipeline
While Aurelia certainly could, it looks like not everyone has been able to move on since her private plane went down deep in the Canadian mountains this past winter. Sources report that earlier today, a lone gunman, who has been identified as Logan Abbott—fiancé of Cassie Holloway, Aurelia’s former and deceased assistant—opened fire on the singer.
According to speculation, Abbott was allegedly waiting for Marston George, Aurelia’s uncle and former manager, to leave his office for the day when he encountered the music mogul’s niece instead. We have no news on the condition of Aurelia, but our prayers are once again extended to her.
Is it just bad luck, or does trouble seem to follow the singer wherever she goes?
THORIN
Thor.” I’m in bed, lying on my stomach and in a deep sleep. I’m dreaming about being back at the cabin and in the wilds with Aurelia when I feel someone shaking me awake so hard my goddamn teeth gnash together. “Thor! Wake up. Wake the fuck up!”
“Khal, I swear to God,” I warn inside my pillow. “I’m going to break that fucking hand if you don’t get it off of me and get out.”
Ever since the coma and the TBI, nothing comes easy to me these days—first and foremost sleep—so I’m as grouchy as a bear in hibernation when disturbed. I rarely feel like myself when I’m awake, and the only relief I get is when I’m asleep, so I’m less than one second from tackling Khalil to the ground when he says, “Someone tried to get at Aurelia. We need to go.”
I lunge from the bed and I’m on my feet before he can finish speaking. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I’ve got his shirt in my fists, and I’m slamming him against the wall before I can remember that he’s not my enemy. “Who touched her?”
Khalil shoves me off of him and then grabs my discarded clothes from the floor before shoving them into my chest. “I’ll tell you in the car. Let’s go.”
I get dressed in record time while Khalil paces angry steps across the floor. I then follow him out of the room and the condo. Zeke is already waiting in the driver’s seat of the rental, and I barely get the door closed before he’s speeding away.
It’s the wee hours of the morning as we race all the way to the apartment building that’s become our regular haunt. It doesn’t matter that we already know there’s no way to slip inside undetected. There’s a doorman. We park in our usual spot across the street from the building and try to figure out how to get inside to check on our girl.
“We should try that thing we discussed,” Zeke suggests. “I can pose as a pap and see if we can get any information.”
“Did you bring the camera?” I ask as I watch the front entrance.
Zeke nods and reaches under his seat to pull out a high-grade camera that we purchased for this purpose. “I’ll go,” he says. “He might not be an easy sell, and I’m the only one with the temperament to pull this off convincingly.”
True. With the way I’m feeling right now, the moment the doorman refused to answer a question, I’d try to put him through the cement.
“The only identity you mean,” Khalil remarks.
Because if Zeke were Bane or Seth right now, they’d be just as bad. Seth would have just walked right up to the doorman and stuck his knife under his chin until he told the alter where his Sunshine was.