Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121871 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 487(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“Pot, meet kettle.”
He closed the suitcase and strolled over to my purse. My heart rate escalated as he picked up the passport. As he opened it, he confessed, “I installed a program on your phone that allows me to access it. I can delete calls, texts, voicemails.”
That now familiar, suffocating, crushing feeling weighed me down on the floor along with my injuries.
“I also have your phone tapped.” Nick strode back to me, my passport still clasped in his hand. His knuckles were swollen from battering them into my face. “Which is why I knew Tierney was onto Halston Cole.” His tone was unremorseful. “He’s a friend, so I warned him, and that’s why that stupid bitch ended up with a knife in her gut.”
Horror flooded me. Followed by utter rage. “You … you bastard,” I spluttered. “I’m gonna—”
“You’re going to what?” He knelt beside me. “You’re the reason Tierney ended up in the hospital. She’ll never forgive you for that. Unlike me, who will forgive you for everything. For this”—he gestured to his face—“and for threatening to leave me when you know how much I love you.”
“This isn’t love.” Tears filled my eyes. How had I ended up here? How had this happened to me?
“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.” Nick caressed my good cheek. “But if you try to leave me, London, I will kill you.”
I froze, shocked to my core.
He leaned closer. “I will kill you and I’ll get away with it. You’re with a Huston, baby. There’s nothing in the world that we can’t get away with. Trust me.” His smile was so sinister a cold shiver skittered down my spine. Did he mean … had his family … had they killed someone before?
Terror was a sick wave in my gut.
“So, this”—he waved my passport—“is going into the safe and will only be used when I want you to leave the country with me. I’m not playing, London. This isn’t an idle threat. You leave me, I kill you. Do you understand?”
His tone was so mild, like he’d asked me if I understood what his stance was on wine selection.
Despite my terror, that little ember of defiance wasn’t doused.
But Nick saw it.
Like he saw everything in me.
“And if that doesn’t dissuade you from doing something foolish, I will make sure Halston is successful in eliminating Tierney Silver as a threat.”
I sucked in a painful breath.
He smiled tenderly. “Good girl.” He leaned forward, and I turned my head to avoid the kiss that landed on the corner of my mouth. “Do you think I want to hurt you like this?” He leaned his forehead against my temple. “I love you so much. I hate hurting you. So just be good. Be a good girl for me, and this never has to happen again.” His lips brushed my cheek, and I shuddered.
Nick sighed heavily and stood. “I’ll give you some time to remember how much you love me. I need to change my shirt. You got blood on it. I don’t know what I’ll tell my colleagues about the scratches. Maybe that an obsessed ex-lover wouldn’t take no for an answer. They’ll like that. And I’ll call Mother and let her know you need to reschedule lunch.”
As I watched him stroll into the closet, as I heard him open the safe I didn’t have the code to and place my passport inside, I knew I had to get out. Once Tierney was safe from him and Halston … I had to get away from him.
If I didn’t, one of us was going to end up dead.
1. London
Present day
Isle of Glenvulin, Scotland
Birdy’s mellifluous voice filled my ears as I wiped down the quartz countertops in the B and B’s kitchen. My earbuds were open so I could still hear what was going on around me, but I enjoyed listening to music while I prepped and cooked. Breakfast was over for another morning at the Leth Sholas Guest House, and I was wiping down the beautifully renovated kitchen, making sure everything was prepped for tomorrow’s early start.
“Spoon,” a voice cut through my music.
Glancing over my shoulder, I found my best friend and employer, Tierney, leaning into the room, one hand wrapped around the doorjamb. “Just four covers for breakfast tomorrow. A guest called in a last-minute cancellation.”
“That’s fine.” I frowned. “Did they hassle you for keeping their deposit?”
Nee wrinkled her nose. “You know it. I handled it. It’s fine.”
April in Leth Sholas, the small harbor village on the north coast of the Isle of Glenvulin, an island off the west coast of Scotland, was entering its tourist season. Although ferries ran year-round to the mainland for those who lived here but worked on the mainland, the heavy tourist traffic we saw during the summer months disappeared over winter. It meant Tierney, who owned the guest house, relied on being near to fully booked April through September to balance out the slow winter months. There were some days this past winter she didn’t have a single guest. As her chef, it left both of us twiddling our thumbs. Breakfast started at 7 a.m., but I began work at 5 a.m. and finished at noon, leaving the running of the guest house to Nee and the seasonal managers she hired. To give me a break so I wasn’t working seven days a week, breakfast on Mondays and Tuesdays was continental style. I made pastries to go along with the offering of yogurt and cereal.