Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60904 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I keep breathing. I don’t want to say more. It’s too painful to confess my sins.
He doesn’t press me. He simply mirrors my breaths, encouraging me to continue until my head clears a little.
“Come on,” he urges gently. “I’ll take you home.”
We stand, and my hand twitches towards his before I can think better of it.
His fingers brush the back of mine regretfully.
“Not here,” he says in an undertone.
He’s already held my hand for too long while I was crying. Anyone could see us here and get the wrong impression.
Actually, they’d get exactly the right impression.
We’re not being discreet enough.
My hand fists at my side, and I force myself to maintain a foot of distance between our bodies when all I want is to mold myself to him for support.
I straighten my spine.
I’ve managed to hold myself together on my own all these years. I won’t start falling onto a man for support now.
Not even a man as strong and alluring as Rand.
We walk across town in silence, neither of us daring to speak. If I open my mouth, I’ll start saying things that I shouldn’t in public.
He seems to share my concern, because his jaw remains tight, as though he’s locking in what he wants to say to me too.
Finally, we reach my apartment block and climb the stairs to my flat.
When I go to unlock the door, his hand enfolds mine. My skin tingles, just like it did when we first made contact.
“Can I come in?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I want you to.”
He nods tightly, his entire body rippling with the need to hold me.
I hastily finish opening the door so we can finally be alone.
We step over the threshold, and something crunches under my sneaker. I bend down so I can toss the mail out of our way, but my heart stops when my eyes fall on the letter.
It’s addressed to Karolina Taylor.
I rip open the envelope in a burst of pure terror.
I crumple the paper before Rand can read my real name, but it’s too late to hide the words on the letter inside.
I know who you are. You don’t have any secrets from me. Not anymore. You’ll tell me everything I want to know, or I’ll fuck the truth out of you. I’ll tear your tight little cunt until you scream for me.
Rand snarls, and he snatches the sick letter out of my hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask, reeling with nausea.
“I’m going to find out who sent this.” His voice is guttural, barely human. “They’ll be the one screaming.”
I look up at Rand. His eyes are wild with panic.
He’s always been coolly collected when it comes to my stalker.
Now, he looks…feral.
I swallow hard. “I really didn’t think my stalker wanted to hurt me.”
His jaw works, but he can’t seem to find the words to express the extent of his fury.
I cup his cheeks to ground him to me.
Suddenly, his mouth descends on mine. The kiss is desperate, full of pain and fear.
I meet him with equal fervor, clinging to him for mutual support.
He’s shaking in my arms.
Or maybe I am.
I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. We’re wrapped up in each other, throwing everything we have into the kiss.
When I can barely breathe, he breaks away to allow me to suck in oxygen. His forehead rests on mine, and his eyes bore into me.
“I’ll take care of this,” he promises.
He steps away from me, and I clutch at him instinctively.
“I have to go,” he says. “I’ll find out who sent the letter.”
I nod and force myself to release him.
As much as I want him to stay with me, I need this stalker handled. I shudder at the thought of what he wants to do to me.
I’ve killed to protect myself. Now, those survival instincts push me to lean on Rand.
Looking into his fierce, dark eyes, I know deep in my bones that he’ll make my stalker regret coming anywhere near me.
21
RAND
Ihave to force myself to leave Karolina when all I want is to cage her in my arms and make sure no other man can ever get close to her.
But there’s a threat to be handled, and I can’t risk her seeing how I intend to torture her new stalker before I finally allow him to die.
Because I’m not the one who wrote that note.
Whoever sent it is a dead man.
As I leave her apartment building, my fingers flex with unspent aggression. Somehow, I manage to retrieve my phone from my pocket and find the dexterity to enter the number I need.
I’ve told Karolina I have a friend who can help track down her stalker. My plan had been to “scare him off” once she fully depends on me. I never needed to actually call Ghost.
I need him now.
My old friend is capable of hacking into the CCTV around Karolina’s home to identify who left the note.