Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
A trace of a smile crosses Philippe’s face.
“Who did that to Pascal?” I ask him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replies, straight-faced.
“Of course you don’t.” I turn to look at the other guard. “And what is your name?”
“Stefan.” He smiles. “Nice to meet you, Miss Sorenson.”
“Well, the pleasure is all yours, because no offense, but I don’t want you guys following me around.”
“It is what it is.” Philippe shrugs. “We follow Prescott’s orders.”
“Seems like everyone does.” I roll my eyes, honestly this is a joke.
Helene, Thomas and I exchange glances. Are you actually kidding me?
“See you guys later.” I kiss them both on the cheek and look up the street.
“Where are you going?” Philippe asks me.
“To get a cab.”
“We can drive you.”
I stare at him for a beat. “You are actually going to follow me home?”
“Yes.”
“Is Edward going to be there?”
“I have no idea.”
Ugh, I need to talk to him. “Okay, fine. Thank you, a lift would be appreciated.”
I follow them to the car, they open the back door for me and I slink in. We pull out into the traffic and I stare out the window as the night goes by.
If he has his guards on me…. That has to mean something, right?
God, I have no idea what’s going on. Everything about this man is so confusing.
Ten minutes later we pull into my street and surprise, surprise I didn’t tell them where to go. They already knew my address.
I know that Pascal is the one in the hospital but damn it, at this moment Edward feels just as unsafe to me.
Two hours later, I dial his number again.
You’ve reached Edward Prescott.
Leave a message.
Still not answering….
“Damn it, answer the damn phone. Call me back,” I demand. “I’m getting angry, Edward.”
I hang up in disgust, I’ve called him four times and not once has he answered. What’s he doing that’s so important that he can’t pick up a damn phone?
Is he in jail?
I want to know if he did this to Pascal, this is important.
I go to the window and peer out onto the street to see two black cars parked in front of my house. Four men are leaning up against them, red dots glow in the dark as their cigarettes light up. They look settled in for the night.
I glance at the clock, 11:14 p.m. I’m horny and exhausted and honestly don’t have the energy to worry for a moment longer. I have to work in the morning and I need to go to bed. I shower and dress and with one last look out the window at the circus down below in my street, I climb into bed.
He’ll call me tomorrow.
DARKNESS
I read the sign on the window,
HUNTING EQUIPMENT
I make my way inside; I walk through the aisle and pick up some rope and a weighted trap.
“Can I help you?” the assistant asks.
“Yes, I am after a set of knives and a pistol.”
“Of course, this way.”
ALORA
Four days.
Four fucking days of being followed by security guards and I haven’t heard one single word from their prick of a boss.
He’s not answering his phone, he’s not texted me back.
Nothing.
So he thinks that his cheap and nasty sex show can go unaddressed, he thinks he can beat my ex to a pulp and assign unwanted bodyguards to loiter around. I’ve come to the conclusion that if he’s not dead in a ditch, he soon will be.
Because with every day that I don’t hear from him, the more my anger grows.
Who the hell does this guy think he is?
Did he do this to Pascal?
I am not a possession; he doesn’t get to have guards on me without even checking with me first.
And they won’t go away, I’ve tried every day. On my lunchbreak yesterday in a rage I even told Philippe to fuck off and he laughed.
Laughed.
Another asshole who will be dead in a ditch sooner than expected.
Pascal’s mother called me crying on the phone and I had to pretend I didn’t know and of course I couldn’t tell her what’s happened.
Not that I even actually know.
I’ve made the decision that I’m going to call Pascal this afternoon and see if he’s alright, I can’t have this on my conscience. It’s eating me alive.
Well…. I’ve got a new plan today, I grab my purse and make my way out to their car.
“Good morning, Miss Sorenson.” Philippe opens the back door for me.
“Good morning.” I smile as I get into the back seat.
He gets in behind the wheel and starts the car.
“I would like to go to Edward’s office please,” I announce.
“Edward’s in London.” They glance at each other as if surprised. “You don’t know that?”
Oh, hell…they think that I know what’s going on. They think that Edward is keeping me updated, sorry boys, that’s a hard no.
Your boss is an asshole!